Chaotic Age Zero
by ChaoticAgeZero
Summary: Before Bit Cloud defeated Vega Obscura at the Royal Cup, one flag flew over Zi. Three years have passed since that battle, and the second Chaotic Century has dawned. Where one nation stood, now six claim the right to rule - war has returned to Planet Zi.
1. Prologue: Antebellum Zi

Author's Comments:

Firstly, I would like to give the mandatory disclaimer for this work. The Zoids concept is the property of Shogakukan Production Co. Ltd., TOMY, Hasbro, and other associated companies. In no way is Zoids the property of Zoids: Chaotic Age Zero. We make fair use of the Zoids concept under the Copyright Act of 1976, 17 U.S.C. Zoids: Chaotic Age Zero is not for profit and is free. All of the characters and concepts used in the animes, mangas, ect. that appear in this story are strictly the property of the aforementioned publisher. Zoids: Chaotic Age Zero reserves rights to the other, original characters and concepts.

The above disclaimer applies to entirety of the story. In this first chapter alone, much of the dialogue echoes or quotes the words of characters. These dialogues and monologues are extracted only from the last five minutes within the last episode the english dub of Zoids: New Century Zero television show. The extremely small quantity of information extracted (as well as lack of video or audio) continues to make this eligible for usage under fair use. However, this dialogue is the property of the aforementioned corporations. Furthermore, no other chapter in this story will have content directly quoted from any Zoids product.

Now, if you're wondering why I just had to say all that, it's for various legal and moral reasons. Here's a brief explanation. Zoids: Chaotic Age Zero is an independent RPG website - chaoticagezero.angelfire .com. The below fanfiction, entitled "Chaotic Age Zero" is the backstory of the Chaotic Age Zero website and RPG. Note that this is not an advertisement (if it were, it would violate terms of service) but a story that the Chaotic Age Zero staff would like to share with the Zoids community at large.

Note that this prologue is quite long, on the order of thirteen pages. The story is rated as it for violence, realistic depiction of war (both infantry and Zoids battles), and mild profanity.

A brief explanation regarding the story might be in order, but I think I'll leave that to the characters. Please, read on!

* * *

Chaotic Age Zero

Prologue: Antebellum Zi

(Transmission Source Unknown)

2/8/02

Second Year of the Chaotic Age

Present Day

Hi. I'm sure you don't know me, but that's in no way important. Maybe you know _of_ me. My name is Halen. Just Halen, pronounced "Hay-Lehn". Though sometimes folks will call me things like "Commander Halen", "CMG", or sometimes "Skipper" if I'm aboard the '_Ante_. Any of those names ring a bell? Maybe? Well, it really doesn't matter who I am. For the record, I'm the head of Blackdust Mercenary Group, the smallest sovereign nation on Zi. How do a bunch of mercenaries gain sovereignty? That's a bit of a long story, and it ties right into the one I'm here to tell.

Seems like a dream, doesn't it? It's hard to believe that just three years ago, we all saw Bit Cloud take down the Berserk Fury, and then all was right in the world. Bit Cloud and the Zoid Battle Commission were good, Vega Obscura and the Backdraft Group were evil, and Zi was just that black and white. The good guys won and saved the day, and the bad guys were backed into a nice tight corner, and that was the last we'd ever see of them.

I guess back then, no one ever dreamed of what would come over the next year, and the next few years. Because the world isn't that black and white, there is no clear-cut good and evil. I'm sure I don't need to tell you about it. You've heard of it – hell, you've probably lived it. But I'm going to tell the story anyway, because I have to in order to tell the story of my Blackdust Mercenary Group. But it's not just that, it's the story of Vega Obscura and Bit Cloud and the Neo Backdraft and the New Helic Republic and the Zoid Battle Commission, and the story of every other hero and faction to ride out on a white horse. It's not even really their story, not theirs and not mine. It's the story of the time. The story of the Second Chaotic Century, the story of the Chaotic Age Zero.

Funny thing is, we all know how it began. It started at the end of the Royal Cup, three years ago...

* * *

ZBC High Command, The Ultrasaurus

1/1/-01 (Before the Chaotic Age)

Early Evening

The End of the Royal Cup, Three Years Ago

The world watched it. The eyes of every human on the planet were fixed to the screen of televisions, computers, monitors. They watched as Bit Cloud and the Liger Zero put a claw to the neck of the Berserk Fury – the only Berserk Führer-typed Zoid to have ever walked the face of Zi. They watched as with one almighty slash, the glowing claws of the Liger-typed Zoid tore across the Tyrannosaurus' neck, sending the dark-colored Ultimate X falling to the ground. The Liger Zero placed one claw on the chest of its fallen foe and let out an almighty roar, declaring its victory to the world.

For a moment, all was silent. All that could be heard was the crackling flames of the fallen Zoids around the two combatants, and the eerie echoes of the Liger Zero's roar.

"Commissioner, judgebot satellite uplink shows the Berserk Fury to be in Command System Freeze."

Commissioner Fredrick Coulston, the Commissioner of Zoid Battling and head of the one and only nation on Zi, held back a sigh of relief. The Backdraft were shrewd. He had been on the bridge of the Ultrasaurus – ZBC HIGHCOM, supposedly the safest place in the world. Less than an hour before, the Backdraft had launched an long-ranged attack via Charged Particle Gun on this very fortress. Had it not been for the quick actions of the bridge tactical officer, they might have succeeded – while he was observing the Royal Cup from the Ultrasaurus, they could have eliminated two tempting targets in a single stroke.

"Communications Officer, authenticate the transmission from the satellite uplink. Tactical Officer, confirm Command System Freeze of the Ultimate X using ground-based sensors."

Again, the Commissioner held his breath as the two officers went to work. The Communications Officer responded first.

"Confirmed, Commissioner. Transmission is authentic."

"Commissioner, video of the battle shows the Liger Zero cutting through the Berserk Fury's Zoid Control Conduit in the neck, sir. In my opinion, that confirms Command System Freeze."

Coulston let out the sigh that he'd been holding in. Vega Obscura's victory in the Royal Cup would have been catastrophic for the Zoid Battle Commission. The Backdraft had meant this as a symbolic victory, to show that the star of the Commission was falling, and that a new age was dawning. A rebel triumph probably would have sparked rebellion throughout Loramere – those damned, ungrateful Easterners. But a loyal Commission pilot, Bit Cloud, had won the day. Most importantly, with the Berserk Fury and its powerful Triple Charged Particle Gun disabled, ZBC orbital bombardment platforms were now free to act. They could crush these upstart rebels once and for all.

"Sir?"

Coulston looked at the communications officer, who had addressed him.

"Yes, officer?"

"Tactical Command aboard Endurance Station reports that the Backdraft satellite cluster is within their firing arc. TACCOM reports that Endurance Station forward batteries request weapons free."

"Inform Endurance TACCOM that all batteries have weapons free and may fire at will. And give me a conference line with the Backdraft Whale King at the Royal Cup and the Backdraft High Command."

It was over for the Backdraft. They had survived through guerilla warfare and by staying one step ahead of the Commission, probably through inside sources within the ZBC itself. However, when their resurrected Death Stinger had launched an attack against the Ultrasaurus, they'd revealed the location of their major base – in East Vedere, regional capital of the Verdis. Now, the gig was up. Now that they'd lost their CPG capability, there was nothing standing between the Commission orbital strike platform and the city. They would get one chance to surrender.

"Commissioner, I've set up the video transmission."

"Transmit the contents to the news media. They need to see the moment of our victory. On my mark, flip the image from the Ultrasaurus bridge to one of Endurance Station's spotting drones. Can that be arranged?"

Of course, sir. The conference call will be broadcast to the media... and a spotting drone video feed from Endurance is standing by. I'm putting the call on the central screen... now."

The screen briefly flashed green, and then turned on. Coulston was faced with two images on a split screen (for of course, it was a conference call), one of which showed a woman leaning over the main control console of a shattered Whale King. She did not seem to have noticed that contact had been established.

"Is it over?" she said softly to no one but himself.

"That's right," said Coulston gruffly. With a gasp, the woman looked up at her display screen.

The Commissioner of Zoid Battling continued with his prepared remarks. "Greetings, Backdraft Group. Well, we've finally put an end to your malevolent ambitions. Witness!" Coulston signaled behind his back to the communications officer, and the screen became feed from the spotting drone.

The massive Endurance Station – a full battlestation in its own right, was stationary relative to the Backdraft satellite cluster. The drone was perhaps fifty kilometers away, behind the rebel satellites. It was an exceptional shot. Endurance Station, in all its glory, as it brought its massive array of broadside batteries, mounted on rotating turrets, to bear against the insurgent forces. In one glorious salvo, the batteries fired in a calculated, chain-linked pattern, blowing each and every enemy station out of the sky. They explosively depressurized and fell from orbit sequentially, but the result was certain: the ZBC had regained space superiority.

"Order Endurance Station to train guns on East Vedere."

As one, the dozens of gun turrets on the underside of Endurance Station twisted towards the ground, their deadly payload aimed at the surface of Zi. Coulston signaled to cut back to the conference conversation rather than the drone's video feed.

"There's no chance for you to escape now. I suggest you surrender quietly."

Coulston turned his attention to the two men standing on the other half of the screen, in Backdraft Headquarters. He recognized one man as Representative Altail, a man of some importance within the lower echelons of the Commission legislature. The man on his left, however, was a shock to Commissioner Coulston. It was the Count – a man with close political ties in the Commission Council itself. If he was not the head of the Backdraft, he was one of its most prominent members.

The Count hung his head in submission. "How the could glorious battle I envisioned have ended in such miserable defeat?" The Count, with a swish of his cape, turned and walked out of view of the camera.

Altail gasped as his leader walked away from the demand of a surrender. "Count!" he yelled.

Commissioner Coulston punched a button on his console to mute the microphone.

"We'll give them a moment to consider our demand. In the mean time, I think there is something of a congratulations in order. Put me through to Bit Cloud."

The screen flashed again, and Bit Cloud's visage appeared. He was looking outside his cockpit at something – Coulston couldn't see what. However, as soon as his console beeped to notify him of the incoming message, Bit Cloud gave the Commissioner his full attention.

"Congratulations, Bit. You've certainly earned this victory."

The green eyes of the Zoid pilot lit up with excitement. "You mean I actually-"

"The Blitz Team has won the Royal Cup. The highest bridge of that old Ultrasaurus wreck you were on was the hidden finish line. Proceed to the cockpit, Bit."

Coulston punched another button on his own console, cutting the transmission and the link to the news media. He sat back in his chair and waited, watching the monitor. There were a thousand cameras trained on Bit Cloud and the Liger Zero right now, as the duo moved to claim the title they so rightfully deserved.

The Commissioner of Zoid Battling watched as Bit Cloud scrambled up the steps and onto the highest bridge, inserting his Zoid gear into the slot on the Ultrasaurus' main command console. He, Fredrick Coulston, was looking at that control panel's only duplicate in all the world. The Ultrasaurus was a symbol of power. The one that Bit Cloud now stood upon had been the highest command center of the old Republic, and the one that he, Coulston, now sat in was the core of the Zoid Battle Commission. There were only the two on all of Zi, and only Coulston's was still functional.

Bit Cloud had the privilege – and a hard earned one – of placing his Zoid gear inside the slot on old Helic's Ultrasaurus. It was hard to forget that where Bit, the greatest Zoid Warrior in the world now stood, the great hero Van Flyheit had planted his feet ages ago.

"Communications Officer, I'd like to transmit a message to Bit Cloud's Zoid Gear directly."

"Yes sir, of course sir." The officer was actually in considerable consternation, but after a moment of frantically manipulating controls, he said, "Ready to transmit, sir."

"Transmit as follows: 'Liberty, Courage, and a Sense of Justice.'"

Even as he said them, Coulston watched them flick across the display on Bit Cloud's identification device, as quickly as the Communications Officer could type them. Bit himself was repeating every word that scrawled across his Zoid Gear.

"Only a warrior who possesses such qualities deserves the Royal Cup. Bit Cloud, your team has fought hard and shown unsurpassed comradery, but the Blitz Team couldn't have won the Championship without you. You're a tribute to Zoids Warriors around the world. As the ultimate Warrior, you'll advance to the next challenge. Today, fame and glory are yours. So, use your portion of the Royal Cup prize money to treat yourself to a well-deserved break, before your next challenge."

Fredrick Coulston leaned back in his seat as he ended his speech. He had ad-libbed the whole thing, and the world had heard him say it. Just one duty left to take perform.

"Have we received the Backdraft Group's surrender yet?"

"No, sir."

"Get me a line to Guygalos. Get me the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs."

"Right away, sir."

The screen before Coulston flickered with lines of scrawling data – bit rate, radio frequency encryption level, before the unintelligible gibberish of the computer finally gave way to a screen, with the Code of Arms of the Zoid Battle Commission displayed against a black background. They were waiting for the the Chairman to receive the connection, which might take a moment. Normally, the situation would be reversed. He, the Commissioner of Zoid Battling, would be in the capital city of Guygalos, receiving a call from the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, stationed at the ZBC HIGHCOM of the Ultrasaurus. However, given that Coulston had insisted on observing the Royal Cup from the Ultrasaurus, several other key personnel were moved away, so that any attempt on the Ultrasaurus' bridge would fail to kill all top ranking members of the military. In the wake of the attacks of an hour ago, this seemed more important than ever.

The Code of Arms on the screen flicked away and was replaced by the visage of another man. This was General Richard Cassar, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, one of the senior-most members of the military.

"Hello, Commissioner. I was concerned when I heard about the attack against High Command, but I trust that since you are now calling me, you have not been harmed. Was there any serious damage?"

"No, but thank you for your concern, General. We managed to raise the E-Shield in time and it bore the brunt of the assault."

"Excellent. I watched the broadcast. We've got these rascals on the run. I've heard that intelligence has located their base of operations: East Vedere. We're ought to strike before they have a chance to flee, tail between their legs."

"I'm going to order the bombardment of the city. The Backdraft should be a problem of the past soon. Nonetheless, I feel that it would be prudent to mobilize the Eisen Dragoons against them." The Eisen Dragoons, the Fourth Armored Division, the Black Operations and Special Forces of the Zoid Battle Commission. This unit had been formed by Gunther Prozen himself during his attempted coup against the Emperor. Even though Prozen died, the Dragoons would later help overthrow the Guylos Empire and replace it with the Neo Zenebas dynasty. Ever since, the unit had been deathly loyal and almost suicidally brave. They were men who could be trusted implicitly, who were chosen for their unwavering loyalty and unquestioning obedience. The Backdraft didn't stand a chance.

"There are two major concerns: the city itself, and the Backdraft presence at the Royal Cup. General, I'd like you to personally supervise the neutralization of both targets."

"Of course, Commissioner. Both the First and Second brigades are guarding Guygalos itself, but I'm not sure its prudent to pull away both. I'll have elements of First Brigade load aboard a Great Whale King and apprehend Vega Obscura and his Whale King immediately. It shouldn't be hard with the Berserk Fury out of the way. I believe Major General Krauss and the Third and Fourth Brigades are over at Homeland Airbase – we'll have them airlifted to East Vedere. They'll blockade the city and stop anyone from leaving. Then, we'll just shell the rebel bastards until they wave the white flag."

"Sounds good. Make it happen."

"Sir!"

The transmission cut out.

"Communications Officer, institute a media blackout regarding the city of East Vedere and the Backdraft Group. Let the public think that they are a problem of the past. Then order Endurance Station to open fire on the city."

"Yes, sir."

With that, Fredrick Coulston, the Commissioner of Zoid Battling, stood and walked off the bridge of the Ultrasaurus. A great enemy had been defeated.

* * *

Backdraft Headquarters, East Vedere

1/1/-01 (Before the Chaotic Age)

Evening

The Count hung his head in submission. "How the could glorious battle I envisioned have ended in such miserable defeat?" The Count, with a swish of his cape, turned and walked away from the screen and towards the nearby stairwell.

Colonel Altail gasped as his leader walked away from the demand of a surrender. "Count!" he yelled.

The Count did not seem to notice his Colonel's exclamation. He continued to walk away without notice. Maybe he was going up to committee chambers to draft a notice of surrender. Maybe the Count's mind had simply snapped beneath the crushing weight of the defeat. Regardless, Colonel Altail was powerless to stop him, and he couldn't follow the Count forever.

Altail rushed back to the console. Commissioner Coulston had disappeared from the viewing screen – but that made no difference. The Backdraft's tactical situation was bleak. Altail's mind raced, flitting through possibilities. It was he who had been responsible for resurrecting the Charged Particle Gun, he who had spearheaded the project to capture the Liger Zero, and he who had excavated the Ultimate X – the Berserk Fury. The only reason he didn't wear the stars of a general was because he was no soldier, but did that really matter? He had proved himself in combat a fair share of times. Even if his duties had been research related... And the indignation of it all. In about a week's time, when Sarah Redfern and that little boy of hers – Vega Obscura, the talented urchin she'd taken into her custody, had surpassed him, he had really seen red. Vega had been able to pilot the Berserk Fury – an Ultimate X. So, Obscura, though he couldn't be much older than eight, had been promoted to Brigadier General and given a Whale King. After years of dedicated service, Altail was just a Colonel.

But this was his chance! His bid to attempt to assassinate Vega with the three Geno Saurers had perhaps been a bit... premature and extreme. However, now he could save the Backdraft Group and be the hero – and he would rise to the top of the organization. He had to consider quickly. They were several floors down in the Backdraft Command building, but this was little protection against Commission guns. Essential personnel ought to get down to the command bunker. The Backdraft shouldn't gamble that the Commission was bluffing about bombarding the city. They had put down each of the Loramere rebellions in the bloodiest and most brutal ways imaginable. Why should the Backdraft be any different?

Altail punched in a few key passcodes and gained access to the satellite network. There were several Backdraft spy satellites in place, but the entire Dark Judge system had been annihilated by Endurance Station. As long as the Commission had space superiority, the Backdraft was at a serious disadvantage. Maybe they could take down the station? Yes, that was it! Normally, only Vega Obscura's Berserk Führer-typed Ultimate X (Berserk Fury by name) had the CPG output to pierce the atmosphere and down a satellite in orbit. However, the Backdraft still had the Death Stinger in the roof hanger, mostly functional. It was entirely possible that the Death Stinger's CPG output might be sufficient to achieve the same effect.

It was their best chance. They wanted proof Altail could lead the Backdraft in battle? With a swish of his cloak, the Colonel turned on heel and made for the stairwell – the same one that the Count had retreated down just minutes before. Altail began to climb – he could have contacted the roof hanger remotely, but he would likely have to go there in person to convince Brigadier General Fullwen to attempt this operation. Following the failed attack against the Ultrasaurus, the Count had ordered that the Death Stinger stand down. Fullwen, who was in charge of the Zoid X, would have to be made to see otherwise. And he, Altail, the senior-most Colonel of the Backdraft, was the man to do it.

As the Colonel climbed the stairs upwards, he ran over his arguments in his mind. Maybe he wasn't a General, but he still had clout. He could make Fullwen see sense, and they could...

BOOM.

There was a resounding boom somewhere close by, the loudest noise that Altail had ever heard. Then another and another in quick succession – they were getting closer. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, as some part of Altail's soldier sense told him that they were being shelled. He barely had time to fling himself to the ground and cover his head before the loudest boom of all came.

Something hit the Backdraft Headquarters, and with an almighty crack, the shell brought the world around Altail crashing down. The bombardment shook the building to its very foundations, rocking the superstructure and dislodging pieces from the roof. There were several secondary explosions and then one sickening crack and thud. A fraction of a second later, a second and then a third volley struck the building, and the base creaked eerily. A second crack, much louder this time, resounded throughout the facility.

Altail knew he should have closed his eyes but couldn't bring himself to do so. He was showered with dust and debris following the first and second impacts, but following the third, pieces of the ceiling began to come loose. The roof caved in just in front of the Colonel – had he been merely a meter forward, he would have been buried beneath the rubble. A section of the wall next to Altail also fell free from the building, leaving nothing but metal ribbing and steel frame beneath.

After perhaps five nightmarish seconds, there was the sound of a shell impacting nearby, but not on top of the building. Slowly, the sounds became more and more distant. Altail dared to rise to his feet, and tried to objectively calculate his next move.

The damage was extensive, that was for sure. The stairwell had collapsed and the lights had gone out (Altail could still see via light from the crack in the side of the building and from above). That probably meant that power was out, so the elevator was out of the question. He would have to go around to the other side of the building and see if the second stairwell was open.

In passing, the Colonel tilted his head upwards and surveyed the damage to the ceiling. Though it was made of reinforced concrete, large portions of it had been dislodged by the shelling. One large section had come free completely, allowing view of...

Altail realized with a gasp the significance of what he was seeing. Through a crack in the roof, he could see the open sky and the naked, setting sun – but there was no sign of upper floors. He was at least five stories down! The bombardment had blown the top clean off of the building. There was no chance to get to the roof hanger, then. Colonel Altail turned to look through the crack in the wall. Smoke was rising from most of the city. Bodies, their forms barely distinguishable from the scorched debris around them, littered the street. Though the city was sympathetic to the Backdraft, most of these East Vedere buildings and people were purely civilian. Altail had heard of how the ZBC dealt with rebels before, but never before had he so thoroughly understood the plight of the Loramere dissenters.

The Colonel stood there, stunned, for perhaps a minute before he came to his senses. He would be needed down below in the command bunker. The stairs might be blocked up, but there were still fine going down. As fast as he could, Altail began to descend flight upon flight of stairs. He didn't know how many stories he covered or how long it took him – it seemed to pass in a blur. More than once, he passed frantic, uniformed men going up or coming down, injured and supported by comrades or unscathed and unharmed.

At some point in time, the power came back on and an alarm immediately sounded. No advisement or orders came over the loudspeaker, however. Altail found his way to the bottom floor of the building, where everything was frantic. Wounded men lay in agony in the corners, medics moving frantically from one to the next, officers and soldiers yelling into their radios for support.

The Backdraft bunker system was a chain of linked rooms in an old, abandoned mine shaft. The Backdraft had replaced the elevators and restored power, using them as fallback points and shelters in cases just like these. The generalty and Backdraft command structure would be meeting there.

Altail found himself in the elevator, going down to the bunker. The moment he stepped out into the bunker, two soldiers stopped him at the door, but merely saluted and let him pass when then saw his Colonel's insignia. Altail found the appropriate contact and the bunker door slid open.

Inside was utter pandemonium. Everyone was moving as if in a blur, panicking and writhing as one. The Communications Officer was at his post, yelling frantically into the radio. Everyone else seemed to be mobile, literally running from station to station as if they meant to solve something by the mere erratic nature of their movements.

Altail remembered yelling to no one in particular, "Who's in command here?"

He didn't know from who, but the answer came back, "You are, sir!"

Colonel Altail looked at the chaos around him. If he really was in command...

"Everybody, shut up!" he roared.

The command bunker instantly went silent and every eye was on him.

"Am I to understand," he asked, "that there is not a single general officer here? That I am the seniormost officer?"

"Yes, sir," answered one soldier wearing a major's insignia.

"What is the status of the Count?"

The Communications Officer answered. "The Count and the Committee of Seven were meeting in the council chambers on the top floor when the shells hit, Colonel. They're presumed dead. I don't know the status of any of the other ranking officials or officers." That made Altail's mouth go dry, but he hesitated only a moment.

"Where is the head of the Guard?'

"Here, sir," answered a sergeant major clad in full body armor.

"Sergeant of the Guard, get two search and rescue teams together. Send the first team to the top floor to try to rescue any members of the Committee. Send the second team on a floor-to-floor search. Find any command officers there are still alive and get them back down here.

"Sir!" The sergeant major saluted and left the command bunker.

"Communications Officer, have we informed the rest of the Backdraft Group of our current situation?"

"No, sir. Our long-range communications capabilities were lost during the initial attack. Power was restored recently but our primary radio transmitter has been knocked out. The backup isn't online yet."

"As soon as the backup does come online, transmit a distress message to the rest of the Group. Ask all general officers to give an immediate status report. I would caution against any allied ground forces approaching the city at the moment, as Commission troops are no doubt already in route in superior numbers."

"Right away, sir."

"Colonel!" This was a different voice, this time. Someone wearing a major's insignia had shouted from one of the sensor panels. "Radar is back online – crews are working on the transceiver dish next. But I think you need to see this, sir."

The major pressed a contact and the center of the room lit up. The 3D-projector below flashed several messages through the air. Suddenly, the image died and Colonel Altail was looking at a representation of a radar grid, suspended in the air. The images were 3-D, probably meaning that they had multiple dishes online as opposed to the 2-D product a single dish. This however, was less important than what the image showed – two massive dots in center of the screen circled by a plethora of smaller dots, miniscule by comparison.

"Radar signatures of two Hammer Kaisers or Whale Kings and two squadrons of escort aircraft, roughly 800 kilometers distant and closing at 1225 kph – about 340 m/s. They appear to have left Homeland Army & Airbase a few minutes ago and will have reached us in about 40 minutes."

Altail fixed his eyes on the transport's radar dots. "ZBC rapid deployment, no doubt. Let me guess the bad news – our runway was damaged in the course of the attack and we can't scramble aircraft."

"Yes, sir. The civilian runways at EVX were also damaged so there's no chance that we could even launch from there. However, there is some good news. East Vedere City Hall just sent a message to us via courier – from the mayor. He's declared a state of emergency and is saying that the Commission attacks against the city are unacceptable. He's decided to declare East Vedere's support for the Backdraft and to put the city militia at our disposal."

"That's good news to some, I suppose, but we're still hopelessly outnumbered. We need to seriously consider the possibility of evacuating the city."

"I wish we could, Colonel, but most of the roads were destroyed in the attack. The Commission shelled the whole city, not just our Headquarters Building. It would take considerably longer than the 40 minutes we have to evacuate all our forces, especially considering we have wounded. Meanwhile, civilians are being evacuated to civil defense shelters – but the initial death toll is horrific. As soon as Endurance Station's guns recharge, she'll probably open fire on us again. We're trying to get our hurt people to civilian aid stations, given that our own field hospital was blown to shreds."

"If we can't evacuate the city, we'll have to defend it. The ZBC won't accept a surrender. You know what they did to the Lorameran rebels." Dark looks were exchanged. When the Commission had put down the Eastern rebellions, it had killed every dissenter in the city. For the greater good, of course.

"This is a fight to the death. Major, if our local radios are working, order our troops to establish a defensive perimeter around the city. The enemy can't come from the north or the west because its hilly and there isn't enough room to set down a large transport. Concentrate our defensive efforts to the south and the east. I know to the south we've already set up bunkers inside the hills. Tell troops to use cover, fortifications, and hardpoints in areas that aren't likely to be vulnerable if we're orbitally bombarded again. We only have forty minutes, so we have to move quickly."

The major listened to every word that the Colonel said, and then picked up a radio and talked frantically into it. They really did have no time.

"Colonel!" It was the Communications Officer again. "First search and rescue team has reached the top floor. They say they dug through some loose rubble and got into what used to be the Council Chamber. They report that corpses of all seven members of the Committee have been accounted for. They further report that most of that section of the floor isn't even there – part of the building was shot clean off on that side."

A shiver ran up Altail's spine. That was the core of the Backdraft Group – where most of its influence, wealth, and power had rested. If all seven members of the Committee were dead, they were in worse shape then he had thought. Altail punched a contact on a nearby console and scrolled through a few menus, quickly finding the Backdraft roster. He opened the file and displayed it on the 3D projector. The radar image flickered away and was replaced by a list of names, sorted by rank. One by one, Altail marked each of the first seven names "KIA" - Killed in Action.

After several moments of mutely staring at the roster, Altail's thoughts were broken by the Communications Officer. "First search and rescue team reports that after they excavated they chamber, they moved around to the roof hangar, which is still partially intact. Every Zoid in there is shot to pieces and most of the deck crew is dead, but they pulled Brigadier General Fullwen out of the Death Stinger's cockpit. The Death Stinger itself it out of commission, but it looks like it saved Fullwen's life. He's in critical condition and wounded badly, but he's alived.

Altail nodded mutely in acknowledgement of the message, and moved down the list of names. Fullwen was now "WIA" - Wounded in Action.

Altail brought up a topographical map of the area and tried to begin to concoct a plan to defend the city. Time was wearing thin, so diminished that they hadn't a second to lose. He and the major, the two highest ranking officers in the command bunker, applied all of their tactical knowledge the upcoming situation, but it seemed almost hopeless. The enemy transports couldn't actually land in the city itself or in the outlying foothills, but they could set down as close as twenty kilometers away and simply establish a perimeter. Then, it was just a matter of time before the city ran out of supplies or the bombardment completely decimated East Vedere.

Long-range radio was restored some minutes later, and the Communications Officer sent out the request for status reports as well as a distress signal. All the while, reports came in from the search team from the rest of the building. Other than Fullwen, who was miraculously saved by the Death Stinger's armor, it was only dead officer after dead officer. The search and rescue teams found two living Lieutenant Colonels and one full Colonel, only one of whom was conscious and stable. However, they turned up no live generals. Altail was simply forced to cross of man after man on the list.

Reports from the outside via radio began to trickle in. The Major General who was spearheading the Backdraft campaign against the Ultrasaurus had been killed in the fighting. Such-and-such a Backdraft base had been shelled to pieces and commanding officer was dead. Colonel Altail tried to distract himself with the current strategic and tactical situation, but his eyes kept flicking back to the roster. He kept removing the dead generals from the list – and it wasn't a very long list. The Backdraft Group might have been the largest rebel force, but it still wasn't a very large organization. They had no navy, so there were no flag officers or admirals to speak of. Only general officers for the air force and army, and most of them seemed to have been killed in the initial wave of the assault.

That being said, while the leadership might have been problematic, the strategic situation was equally disastrous. Backdraft strongholds, which had once littered the landscape, had now become a sparse array of small outposts. The defense of the city was of paramount importance, but was perhaps a futile effort. Altail ordered remaining bases, forts, and camps to lay low for the time being, and prepare act as support structures and receive refugees from East Vedere.

Altail continued to distract himself from the diminishing list of commanding officers. Several of the Zoid hangars were damaged or blocked and it was difficult to get defending forces out – repair crews needed to get there on the double. Troops had reached their positions but had found a deficiency of stashed munitions – some needed to be shipped from the Backdraft armories out into the field. Civilian volunteers were arriving to fight in defense of the city (it was a good thing East Vedere had always been Backdraft-sympathetic), they needed to be given weapons and body armor. The militia also needed to be integrated with standing Backdraft forces... so little time and so much to do.

Still, eventually Altail could ignore the problem no longer. As he marked to more Brigadier Generals "KIA", he stood back and examined the list as a whole. As his eyes took in the data, he felt something rise in his throat and a cold, freezing feeling around his stomach. There was only a single person left on the list, unaccounted for, higher up than Altail himself in the chain of command.

His name was "Brigadier General Vega Obscura". The one person Altail had tried to betray less than two hours ago. He stared at the name in disbelief. A child was the seniormost officer in the Backdraft? But neither he nor his adoptive guardian Sarah had yet reported in.

"Communications Officer?"

"Sir?"

"Is there any word from General Obscura's Whale King?"

"No, sir. I have hailed them specifically. Twice."

Altail felt a lump rise in his throat. He knew what must have happened. After the Berserk Fury had been taken down, the Commission had moved in. The Whale King was damaged in the fighting and might have been unable to lift off or it might have been intercepted in flight. It was a Whale King, so it had a capacity to fight back, but it would have been nothing before the wrath of the Zoid Battle Commission. Maybe it hadn't even been that personal – they could have just shelled it into oblivion from some orbital platform.

The Communications Officer swiveled around in his chair to face Altail. "Colonel? Radar shadow and speed of incoming craft now confirms the two large signatures to be Hammer Kaisers. They're switching out their air patrols for fresh ones and are now roughly ten minutes to intercept."

The major responded to the update the quickest. "If I may advise you, Colonel, the enemy force might have equipment to jam our communications as soon as they arrive. Even if that's not the case, it's only half and hour before we're back in Endurance Station's firing arc, and there's no guarantee our radar and radio dishes will survive. This time – while we still have radio – is precious and there's little time to waste waiting for a response from General Obscura. I hate to say this, but he is most likely dead or captured."

Altail stared mutely at the roster. That would be a major blow to morale, Vega Obscura's defeat. He was the symbol of Backdraft power, the ability to overcome any enemy and to win any battle. That image was now shattered, and Obscura himself was missing. Then again, hadn't this been exactly what Altail himself had tried to achieve just hours ago? Still, it was with a heavy heart that the Colonel marked Brigadier General Vega Obscura as "MIA" - Missing in Action.

There was total quiet in the bunker for a moment, as if Altail had asked that a moment of silence be held for the lost pilot. After a few seconds slipped by, the Major asked, "Colonel, who leads the Backdraft now?" It seemed that every general was accounted for, and none of them were on their feet.

Altail said nothing, but instead turned to the Communications Officer. "Send the following message to all Backdraft forces. Message begins: 'Am taking command of Backdraft Group.'"

* * *

Royal Cup Finish Line, Eisia

1/1/-01 (Before the Chaotic Age)

Early Evening

As the transmission from the Commissioner of Zoid Battling closed, Sarah leaned onto to control console, punching the transceiver button with little heed for force or necessity.

"Where's Vega?" she demanded frantically.

"He was able to escape. He's uninjured." After a pause, the voice asked, "Sarah? What will happen to us now?"

Sarah Redfern was not listening. Tears welled in her eyes, so strong was her relief. "Thank goodness he's safe."

Vega Obscura could merely stare at the wreck of his defeated Ultimate X – the Berserk Fury, the only Berserk Führer-typed Zoid to have ever walked the earth. He didn't feel angry at his defeat. He didn't even really feel disappointed or sad. As he looked at his beloved Fury, smoking on the ground, all Vega could think to say was,

"Fury, time for you to sleep. You're going to be much stronger the next time you wake up."

The sound of an approaching Zoid distracted Vega. He turned to find the source of the noise and found the Liger Zero standing next to him. The cockpit of the other Ultimate X opened with a hiss, revealing sandy-haired Bit Cloud.

"You alright? Vega?"

"Yeah. Is your name Bit?"

"Uh, yeah!"

"You sure are strong, Bit. I can't believe you stopped the Berserk Fury! I hope we can meet in battle again some time down the road." Vega laughed lightly, letting off his feelings, and Bit smiled at the small boy. It was hard to believe that someone so young could be such an accomplished pilot.

"Sure thing! I'll be waiting for you, King!" Bit punched out his fist. With a grin, Vega returned the gesture. Suddenly, something beeped in Bit's cockpit, distracting the victor's attention. He turned and Vega heard the voice of someone – presumably a judge, informing Bit Cloud that he'd one the tournament. That didn't really sink Vega's spirit one bit – Bit Cloud had earned his title. With one last wave, Bit closed his cockpit and steered the Liger off to claim his prize. Vega watched him go – the world champion.

The sound of whirring treads – a sound Vega knew so well – broke his concentration on the retreating Liger Zero. Vega turned to face the approaching Gustav. The insect-typed transport popped open, and two Backdraft soldiers within saluted crisply. Vega climbed up the side of the Gustav and into the cockpit, taking one of the back seats and watching as the back of one of the Zoid's trailers opened. The Gustav wasn't advanced enough to support or maintain a Berserk Führer, like the Fury, but it could haul it all the same.

Several personnel in the back rigged some chains to the fallen Ultimate X and used either a crane or some other heavy machinery – Vega couldn't see from his vantage point – to haul the Berserk Fury into the transport. Vega closed his eyes and sunk back into his chair – no one seemed to speak to him so he didn't feel the need to speak back or do anything. He let his memories and thoughts wash over him as the Gustav started to roll. The next minute or so was a blur, but he found himself reaching his Whale King, going up through an elevator, and suddenly, he was on the bridge of the transport.

"General on deck!" called a voice. About twenty people around Vega, including the eight bridge officers, snapped to attention.

"Vega!"

Sarah was wrapping her arms around him. Her eyes were damp – she was relieved to see him. After a long while, she broke her embrace, and Vega noticed that the bridge crew was still standing at attention.

"As you were. I'm not in uniform anyway." The crewmen immediately relaxed and went about their business. Vega then turned to Sarah. "I glad to be back. How are things?"

"The Whale King is damaged. It was clipped by part of that Charged Particle Beam the Fury fired towards the end of the battle. Engineering just restored functionality to the engines, so we're good to move. I -"

"General! Incoming message from High Command! It's a distress call, sir!"

Sarah and Vega both jumped at that. "Put on speaker," ordered Sarah.

"-repeat, Backdraft High Command building has come under attack from Commission forces. Most of the city has also been bombarded. Civilian and military casualties are high. Status of the Committee of Seven is unknown. Command requests that all general officers give an immediate status report and-" The transmission cut out with a screech. The Communications Officer flipped a switch and noise stopped entirely.

"What happened?" demanded Sarah. "Get that transmission back on speakers ASAP."

"Working on it, ma'am." The Communications Officer worked with his console for several minutes before finally saying, "I've got no idea, ma'am. We're getting gibberish and static over the radio – might be jamming. I can't say-"

"Radar Contact!" yelled the Tactical Officer, cutting off her counterpart. "Two small aircraft at a roughly 100 kilometer's distance and closing." Sarah and Vega turned their heads to the radar display, being projected as a 3-D image in the center of the bridge. Then, suddenly, the screen was alight with radar contacts. The Tactical Officer disgustedly turned off the projection.

"Probably poor man's jamming over radar and radio. They're just saturating everything with radio signals. We can't see anything through it, ma'am." The Tactical Officer experimentally flipped several switches, but shook her head. Nothing seemed to be working.

Sarah stared at the screen aboard the bridge of the damaged Whale King. "Those aircraft were probably just launched from Imperial Airbase – we can't be too much further than a hundred kilometers away. They're probably loading a Hammer Kaiser with troops as we speak – a Hammer Kaiser they could get here in five minutes once it had launched and gotten to speed. We have two objectives. First, we get away from this site. Second, we get to East Vedere."

If Sarah had technically been the commander of the vessel, she would have asked the Executive Officer the distance and ETA to East Vedere. However, she was the Executive Officer, as Vega was technically the Commanding Officer.

"Helm, what's the current distance to East Vedere?" Maybe the wrong person to ask, but the best given the options.

"About two thousand kilometers," answered the pilot quickly.

Sarah further knew that the range of the Whale King was 5000 kilometers, and they had just refueled yesterday after arriving at the World Cup, so they had more than enough range to make it back.

"Very well, Chief of Operations, prepare the Whale King for takeoff" said Sarah.

"No." The voice was Vega's. "Have the Gustav crews haul the wrecks of the three Geno Saurers I defeated aboard the ship."

"Vega..." Sarah trailed off. Vega technically outranked her. "We have to lift off immediately or we risk losing the Whale King."

The Chief of Operations interposed. "With respect, ma'am, it will take ten minutes or more to spin up the engines. The Geno Saurer wrecks are right nearby. It might be possible to do both."

"Do both," ordered Vega before Sarah could act. "I'm going to be down in the Repair Bay and make sure Fury is going to be alright."

He walked off the bridge without another word. Despite his instance on having the Geno Saurers aboard the ship, Vega did not seem unduly worried, angry, or at all perturbed. In fact, he was very calm. Sarah just wished she had his nerves.

"We can't just set a direct heading to East Vedere, because they'll be expecting us to take that path. We should more north when heading north by northeast so we're not on a direct path with the city."

"Ma'am, if I may?" Sarah turned to the Tactical Officer.

"Go ahead."

"If we don't have radar, neither do they. We can adjust our radar frequencies, just as they can, and it looks like the Commission is trying to block everything. They can't see us any better than we can see them. It's my opinion that they believe the Charged Particle Gun disabled us completely and their trying to catch us on the ground, so they're taking their sweet time to do it."

Sarah listened through the whole description. "Very well. Helm, once we're airborne move north at full speed until we exit the jamming zone. Then make your altitude 20 meters and your speed 70 kilometers per hour."

"Ma'am?" The Helm turned to look at Sarah as she gave these orders. 70 kph was less than a tenth of the maximum speed the great vessel could achieve, and 20 meters was almost suicidally low.

"20 meters or lower, if you can. We have to fly under radar. We have to move slowly so we don't create a significant wave and so we don't run into anything. Set your heading as to intersect with the Great Bay Canal. Once we've crossed over into Agale, turn due East and proceed to East Vedere."

"Yes, Ma'am. Understood. Estimated distance is roughly 5000 kilometers, and estimated time of arrival is..." The pilot trailed off and consulted with the co-pilot for several moments. "Three and a half days to four days, ma'am, depending on how long we're able to keep maximum speed before radar detection becomes a concern."

"Very well."

"Ma'am?" It was the Tactical Officer this time. "We have six Storm Sworders aboard ship, ma'am. I suggest that we keep them on alert during this period. Things might get messy."

"Agreed."

The next few minutes passed with the Chief of Operations giving Sarah update after update on the status of the engine and the takeoff. Towards the end, the report came in that the Geno Saurers were aboard the Whale King.

"Ma'am? General Obscura orders that the Geno Saurers be shipped to the repair bay and made combat-ready."

"Make it happen. He is the general."

"Yes ma'am. Also, the Whale King is beginning take-off procedures. I recommend that you sit down and strap yourself in."

As Sarah sunk into her chair, she couldn't help but wonder about the one question echoing around in her skull. "What will happen to us now? What will happen to us now?" She couldn't say.

* * *

Author's Comments: 

Well, that's the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. If you have any questions, comments, concerns, or critiques, you are of course free to review. I'm sure we'd also be ecstatic if you decided to take a look at our website (chaoticagezero.angelfire .com) It also contains maps, descriptions, and timelines that may make this story easier to understand if the RPG game itself simply isn't a concern of yours. Anyway, I hope to have another chapter up soon.

-Halen


	2. Chapter 1: Under One Flag

Author's Comments:

First and foremost, I am obligated to renew the disclaimer I stated in the prologue. In no way is Zoids the property of Zoids: Chaotic Age Zero.

Now, for an explanation. Several months have now passed since I first published the prologue of Chaotic Age Zero, and I'm sure that some might have thought that the story was simply started and would never be finished. In reality, there was a series of rather annoying or unfortunate setbacks which led me to take so very long to publish this next chapter. Firstly, I wrote 13 pages of this chapter (which I originally intended to make the entire chapter) and was about to upload it when I accidentally erased my hard drive. That discouraged me, and put me off from writing more for a while. Next, I also learned a new way of typing, which took more than a month, and I wasn't really in any state to type until I'd finished figuring this out. Lastly, I've been much busier and laden down with work than I ever would have expected, a situation which will probably not abate for another few months.

The upside of this is that I've written a lot for this single chapter. The chapter itself is 23 pages long (though broken up into 4 slightly more palatable subchapters), excluding the author's comments, so beware trying to read it in one sitting. The reason for the length is that eventually, after losing the first 13 pages I wrote, I started writing a new chapter. Then, I managed to recover the pages that I originally lost, which led me to combine the two into one giant super-chapter. Casual readers beware – I wouldn't try reading the whole thing in one sitting.

Anyway, chapter length notwithstanding, Chapter 1: Under One Flag is very much here and ready to be read. As a reminder, the story is rated as it is for violence, mild profanity, and realistic depiction of war – if any of these offend you, you have been warned. Meanwhile, if you happen to like the story, you are more than welcome to visit the CAZ forums and website (see the author's profile for a link). Anyway, I'll stop writing and let you get to reading. Enjoy!

* * *

Chaotic Age Zero

Chapter 1: Under One Flag

(Transmission Source Unknown)

2/8/02

Second Year of the Chaotic Age

Present Day

Learned anything yet? There were parts of this story so far that probably everyone on Zi has seen. How many times did you see Bit Cloud's victory on every news channel, played over again and again and again? The media took the last battle of the Royal Cup and ran with it, making Bit Cloud and the Blitz Team _de facto_ symbols of patriotism, celebrities, and the spitting image of the quintessential Zoid warrior. Even today, in the midst of all of this conflict and bloodshed, the name "Bit Cloud" is whispered more with awe and respect than the name of any world leader. More than any other name, in fact, with the possible exception of "Van Flyheit".

Speaking of the world leaders and that greatest symbol of unity, Flyheit himself, we probably ought to take a moment to look at the six factions that govern Zi. Now, I realize that any school child can name them, but bear with me. I plan to look a little deeper at these. There are three major factions and three minor.

First and greatest of all factions is the Zoid Battle Commission, which has lost a great deal of its former preeminence to internal conflict. Many say that its a dying superpower with an autocratic corporate-political complex at its helm, too unwieldy, belligerent, and bureaucratic to survive for much longer, still grasping at the deluded memories of its own former glory. The Neo Backdraft Group are rebels against the Commission and everything it stands for. However, while preaching democracy and equality, the NBD is still ruled by a military governor. The New Helic Republic seems like the perfect choice for a faction, overseas, protected by a strong navy, democratic, and neutral in the conflict between the two other great powers. But truth be told, while the NHR maintains its diplomatic poker face, it's become increasingly slanted against the ZBC as time has gone on, to the point where Helic neutrality is a synonym for bias and oxymoron.

The three minor factions of Zi might be simpler. The most troubled of three is the Eastern Continental Alliance, which grapples with a mistrust of authority and a weak central government. The Alliance has no federal executive branch and no power to tax or recruit soldiers, relying instead on contributions from each of its member city-states – and while they have considerable manpower at their disposal, years under Commission mercantilism have resulted in a nation poorly equipped to fight a war. The Zi International Coalition, resurrected in purpose shortly after the rise of the NBD, wields the most political and diplomatic power of any nation on Zi. Unfortunately, the ZIC has no actual power to impress its will on any nation of the world, as it is a conglomerate of vested faith of other nations, has sworn off war as a solution, and acts only on the advice of deadlocked general assembly where the other factions, major and minor, vote only in favor of their own interests. As for the last minor power of Zi, the Blackdust Mercenary Group, my people... well, we're a different beast all together.

I don't mean to sound pessimistic here – just point out the flaws of each faction in turn and why each claim to rule Zi is equally flawed. Still, with these six troubled powers to choose from, it's hard to remember a time with one much greater, much more troubled nation. When all of Zi was united under one flag...

* * *

Subchapter 1.1: Don't Know Jack

Guygalos

1/1/-01

Afternoon

Three Years Ago

Jack Sisco leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, trying to ignore everyone else in the bar and trying to shut out the television, which was the millionth now annoying replay of Bit Cloud's stunning victory at the Royal Cup. Personally, Jack hadn't really lost much of anything. Yes, his team had lost to the Blitz Team, and that was a pity, but there was no shame in losing to the best Zoid pilot in the world. Also, because he was a mercenary, he personally would not have been able to share in team's glory of seizing that ultimate of prizes – the Cup itself. The Royal Cup had two main prizes, other than the money, the fame, and the promotion to class S. The first prize of the Royal Cup came from the "Cup" part – there was a physical cup that would be gifted to the winning team. The other prize was the "Royal" part – there was a crown. More than a century ago, during the reign old Neo Zenebas Empire, the Emperor himself gave the winning team's captain or leader a physical laurel-like crown in addition to the Cup, which was considered the highest prize of the tournament. However, when the ZBC came to power and the Zenebas monarchy was a chapter in the history books, the Commission had disregarded the Royal Cup practice of actually crowning a winner the King of Zoid Battling. Despite that, the champion of the competition – the most valuable participant on the winning team – was still said to have a figurative "crown."

The most famous mercenary in the world leaned back even more and maneuvered his head into a comfortable position. Though the MVP of the winning team of Royal Cup was now called "the ultimate Zoid warrior" or "the champion" or some such title, some still referred to the "King of Zoid Battling." A slight grin crossed Jack's face as he remembered the fabulously wealthy, somewhat lucky, and overconfident Harry Champ, who kept proclaiming that he was "destined to be King." A less comical and far more real contender for the Royal Cup crown was the infamous Vega Obscura, almost frighteningly powerful inside his Berserk Führer (named Fury by its pilot). The Backdraft _had _planned to seize that crown and show to the world how they had shot their way through a heavily guarded and regulated ZBC event with little trouble, wiped aside the best pilots in the world like so many flies, then flaunt their most powerful weapon and best pilot as the pair became champions. _Had_ planned. But Bit Cloud and his Liger Zero had come charging in like a knight on a white horse (or Liger) and fought to the utmost, ultimately defeating the Fury. And however many times they ran the clip on the news, and however annoying it became, it was no mean feat and Jack was forced to respect Bit for that.

Was Jack bitter? There was no reason to be. As a mercenary, hired by a team rather than a member of one, he wouldn't have been given the honor of holding the Royal Cup or been given the symbolic crown. His reputation wouldn't suffer either. He had merely lost to the best pilot in the world. And advancing to Class S had nothing to do with anything either. Jack Sisco could fluidly move between the classes and work for whoever was willing to employ him, and there were many such Class S teams. The money would have been nice, but Jack had made the fortune of a lifetime many times over without winning a Royal Cup. There had been nothing practically wrong with losing to Bit Cloud. But there was still something gnawing at him, or burning in the back of his mind. His pride had taken a blow when he had been forced out of the Royal Cup. But Jack kept his poker face. He'd always told himself that a wounded ego was better than a wounded body.

Bit Cloud was now the ultimate warrior. Congratulations to him. The rest of the Blitz Team wasn't half bad either. Jack knew Brad Hunter as another well-known mercenary, and he had plenty of skill and experience to back up his claim to fame. Leena Tauros was hot-headed and rash during battle and maybe didn't deserve an honor like the Royal Cup, and the one called Jamie or "Wild Eagle", Jack knew little about. As the Commissioner had said, the Blitz Team had fought hard and shown unsurpassed camaraderie, and they probably deserved the award they got. And on the subject of Vega Obscura? The only time Jack had met Vega on the field of battle, it had been a virtual field. It was hard to believe that a small boy could be a champion among champions, and harder to believe still that a cocky former junk dealer turned hero could have beaten him down over the finish line of the Royal Cup just a few hours earlier.

Interestingly, the Zoid Battle Commission had not yet announced that they had captured Vega Obscura. Without calling one of his contacts within the Commission, Jack could already tell that this meant that Vega Obscura had escaped the Commission, and would fight another day. But he also knew that the Backdraft at East Vedere were being slaughtered left and right, and that the Commission had probably already instituted a media blackout so no one would hear about the meat grinder in the Verdis region. The Backdraft had gone up against the Commission, and they'd lost. Now, they were paying the price.

Jack Sisco opened his eyes and straightened his shoulders. There was no reason for him to stay here. Maybe there wasn't much of a reason for him to go, either, but maybe he could find a more productive use of his time. Maybe he could devise some new tactic to defeat the Liger Zero or further modify his prized Lightning Saix and fight even more fiercely next season. He hadn't drunk a drop of the shot of whiskey in front of him, but Jack slapped down an amount of money he knew was several times the price of the drink. They could keep the change. Without waiting for a waiter, he stood to leave. As he left, he took a slight detour from his path to take once last glance at the television. They were playing some kind of a statement from the Commissioner. Jack shook his head, and left the bar through the back door.

Just as the door swung closed and then creaked open again behind him, Jack knew he was being followed. As he'd stood up, he'd seen, out of the corner of his eye, another dark figure stand to match him. The figure had followed him to the television, and then again out the back door. To be sure, Jack quickly turned towards the street, in the opposite direction of the parking lot. The figure turned with him, following him.

Jack's hand casually reached down under his jacket and gripped the handle of the semiautomatic pistol in his shoulder holster.

"Relax, Mr. Sisco. That's not wise." A voice, somewhat deep but with an intangible menacing quality caused Jack's soldier sense to raise goosebumps on the back of his neck and send adrenaline rushing through his blood.

Jack spun around to face the figure who had addressed him. "Really? And what makes you say that?" Jack's eyes darted wildly, taking in every aspect of the person he was addressing. It was clearly a man, tall and heavily muscled, but dressed in black trousers and a matching black overcoat. The man's hands were gloved and an excessive hat was also concealing his face. The man was the spitting image of the shady type. This unknown pursuer pulled back one edge of his coat, to reveal a black tactical vest – and more shocking – the gleaming hilt of an obsidian submachinegun.

"Mr. Sisco, if I had come here to kill you, you'd probably already be dead."

"Don't bet on it."

"Maybe not, they say that you're a crafty and experienced soldier. Regardless, either of our defeats or deaths would be a serious error. I come here in peace and as a friend, not as an assassin or an enemy."

"I don't believe you."

"Really? Because it was you who contacted us." The figure reached into an inner pocket in his coat with one gloved hand. It came out with a gold coin. The man flipped the coin to Jack Sisco, who watched the coin shine in winter sun for a moment before catching it neatly. Jack examined it closely, and he knew exactly what it was.

"I'm sorry," apologized the Saix pilot. "I didn't recognize you."

"You weren't supposed to."

"Are you here to talk things over with me?"

The darkened figure raised his head ever so slightly. For a moment, the shade over the man's hard features seemed to lift and Jack could make out a smirk.

"Not quite. I'm here to take you to meet our mutual friend."

"Alright... give me an hour and I'll get some things together. I need -"

"You don't have an hour. You have to come now."

"I just got out of the Royal Cup! I made a very large contribution to your organization and I believe that I deserve more courtesy than this. Surely you don't believe that -"

"There is a Salamander equipped for long-range travel idling in private traffic runway at Guygalos International Airport with a seat to take you north, to meet the man you've invested faith and wealth in. Your... intriguing message and generous investment has bought you this much. However, that Salamander leaves in fifteen minutes, with or without you."

Jack sighed. He had never been very good at playing the irate investor anyway. "Very well. Let's go."

* * *

Subchapter 1.2: Blow For Blow

Backdraft High Command, East Vedere

1/5/-01 (Before the Chaotic Age)

Morning

The Battle of East Vedere, Four Days Later

"Come on..." breathed Colonel Altail as he watched the video flickering over the monitor. Every pair of eyes in the command bunker was glued to the exact same screen. Commission-red Blade Ligers darted around beneath the camera, assaulting a Backdraft-black Dark Horn. The resolution of the images was low, but Altail was all but back in the cockpit. He could feel the controls beneath his hands, the trigger he pulled back, the roar of the Hybrid Vulcan Cannons and buzzing of the bullets in the air around him... But Altail was not in the cockpit of the Dark Horn -- he was in a command bunker half of a klick away -- and he could no less influence the outcome of the battle than he could clap his hands and spirit away the entire Commission force in East Vedere.

Altail took a moment to glance at the topographical map of the city, covered by transparent plastic marked with all kinds of note. This map detailed the tactical situation in East Vedere. For the past three days, the Commission forces had stayed out of the city and simply allowed orbital bombardment after bombardment to pound the city into dust. Every day, the corpses of humans and Zoids alike had piled higher in the city streets and made it more and more impossible to escape the death trap that was now East Vedere. Early this morning, the Commission had decided to make a direct assault on the Backdraft defenses, rather than just wait them out, as they could have easily done.

It was amazing how fiercely you could fight when your life depended on it. Rubble, rocks and dirt, Zoid corpses – anything that could block bullets could be a barricade. The Backdraft had somehow managed to set up multiple hardpoints along all of the remaining usuable streets in the city as the Commission bore down on them from all sides. The Backdraft forces were fighting tooth and nail, but the Commissioners came in superior numbers, with better training and equipment, and using overwhelming force. For the past six hours, the Backdraft had been forced to give, inch by inch, in an ever-shrinking circle around the command bunker. But they couldn't surrender. The Commission wouldn't accept it and would kill them all anyway. They simply had to win the battle or die trying. But dying they were – and even Altail had to admit that in even the best scenario, the bunker would be taken and he would be dead by sundown.

Still, that wasn't fast enough for the troops of the Zoid Battle Commission. They had the advantage of air superiority with limited resistance from ground-based missile batteries. They'd been using this advantage all day to wipe out Backdraft units and barricades, and it was the primary reason they were advancing as quickly as they were. With their own radar jamming in effect, the ZBC was limited in their targeting options for air strikes, but those strikes had been effective nonetheless. Several Commission Hammer Kaisers – large combat transports, roughly the size of a Whale King and capable of carrying 25 Zoids – coordinated these strikes from above the city, just out of range of Backdraft IR guided missiles. About ten minutes ago, the ZBC had formulated a new strategy for quick victory. Eight Blade Ligers, carried by Dragonfly Stingers deployed from the Hammer Kaisers, had been inserted behind Backdraft lines and nearly on top of the command bunker.

One Blade Liger had stumbled on to a land mine, but the rest continued to advance. The Dark Horn, which Altail now watched on the monitor, was badly outnumbered by the remaining seven but staunchly dedicated to stopping the Commission advance. As the 'Ligers ran beside several collapsed structures, the Dark Horn had burst out of a wall and unloaded a hundred rounds or so, at point-blank from its Hybrid Vulcan, straight into one of the felines. That had cut the odds down to six-to-one.

The image Altail watched was from a low-flying Backdraft unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV): the only kind of aircraft that the Backdraft could deploy without a runway. UAVs were not Zoids and were unarmed, but they were useful scouts nonetheless. Radio contact was only intermittent, because of Commission jamming, but the UAVs were useful nonetheless. They were showing the battle – a Dark Horn now outnumbered by six enemies.

The battle continued with absolutely no heed to Altail's thoughts or musings. One Blade Liger surged forward in front of the others. Its shield wasn't raised, but its blades snapped forward and glowed, and an odd crackling electricity seemed to form around those blades... Altail knew what it was immediately. The 'Liger was going in with its Hyper Blade Attack – the most powerful finishing move in the Blade Liger's arsenal. It took only two seconds to charge. There was very little time for the Dark Horn pilot to react.

But react he did. The guns cut out, and four missiles blossomed from the Dark Horn, ramming into the 'Liger. While an Iron Kong's ballistics would have stopped a Blade Liger dead in its tracks, these were standard missiles and payloads, and less potent. Armor plates had been blown off the Liger's front, structure bent and scorched, but it wasn't enough to stop the advance. An instant later, the guns of the Dark Horn kicked back in, and bullets began to slam into the Liger's face. Armor splintered and flew off the region in chips and flecks, the Dark Horn's continuous laser burning through the remaining plates, but the Blade Liger still advanced. The blades grew brighter, the crackling sparks became more numerous. Only a fraction of a second was left before the 'Liger ended the battle. The two Zoids were nearly face to face...

The Liger's cockpit armor buckled and collapsed beneath the onslaught of 60mm bullets from the Dark Horn's Hybrid Vulcan. For a moment, Altail saw the glint of the pink-purple, transparent coating that insulated the pilot from the outside. Simultaneously, the 'Liger's Hyper Blade Attack seemed just about to raise, and the Liger was only a heartbeat from the Dark Horn. Time seemed to stand still for just a moment. Then, Altail watched as another set of 60mm rounds slammed through the Blade Liger's cockpit, killing the pilot. The 'Liger stumbled, and the Dark Horn stepped deftly to the side, allowing the crippled Zoid to charge blindly past its enemy and fall to its knees.

There was a sudden roar – which Altail could hear even through the poor audio of the UAV -- as the Dark Horn pilot won another victory. Altail swung his eyes back and then realized: there was another Blade Liger behind the first. He had been so concentrated on the impending Hyper Blade Attack, he had failed to notice the other enemies advancing. This second 'Liger leaped into air, diving towards the Dark Horn, claw raised and blades oriented forward, glowing with laser charge...

The Dark Horn suddenly surged forward to meet the attack and caught the Blade Liger on its way down. The claws never met their target, as the Dark Horn threw its Crasher Horn forward into the Liger's head, smashing through its cockpit in a display of brute force and brutality. Armor plates and grated metal flew in every direction as the Dark Horn shook the now-immobile Blade Liger off its horn. But Altail realized that the Dark Horn hadn't escaped unscathed as two of the Backdraft Zoid's armor plates, damaged by the 'Liger's blades, fell mutely to the ground.

The odds were now four to one. Destroying three was a considerable achievement, but four to one odds were still insurmountable. Furthermore, the four Commission Blade Ligers were wary now. They'd lost one comrade to surprise, but two more to recklessness. They wouldn't make the same mistake. The Blade Ligers charged in to a close range using their shields to block the onslaught from the Dark Horn's back guns, then quickly but carefully formed a 100-meter radius semicircle around their foe. Then, each Liger instantly dropped its shield and started firing its Dual Impact Cannon. The Dark Horn spun its vulcan left to right, putting out an enormous volume of shells and damaging all of its enemies, but it wasn't enough. After little more than six seconds, the Ligers had blown off both of its front legs with their fire, and CSFing the Zoid. Perhaps unnecessarily, one of the four Ligers charged in with a Hyper Blade Attack, demolishing the Dark Horn and ending the battle.

Altail turned off the video feed from his own console, bringing the rest of the command staff back to their senses.

"If he had survived that battle, I'd have given that Dark Horn pilot a medal. What did you say his name was, Major?"

"Eh... Master Sergeant Jacob Spinner, sir," came back the answer.

"Well, if we survive this, I'll be sure to give him some kind of a medal. Now, to the more pressing matter of our own defense, we've somehow managed to cut down the enemy force to four Blade Ligers."

"What do we have between them and us?"

"Captain Spanner is moving in with his unit from the east to cut off the Commission advance before they reach the command structures. Spanner has Zoid destroyers with him, so taking out the remaining Blade Ligers will be no problem. He'll intercept them in -"

"Sir!" The Communications Officer yelled from the other side of the Bunker, as Altail poured over the map. "Captain Spanner reports that his path to the East entrance has been blocked by debris of a fallen building. Be advised that he will not be able to reach the command structure before the Commission troops do."

Altail looked at the Major. "So much for that idea. What else do we have?"

The Major's face had suddenly gone very white. "Nothing, sir."

Altail's eyes immediately flicked from the map to the officer. "What?"

"Nothing, sir. There are no Zoids of any kind that will reach the command bunker before the Commission. There is nothing between them and us."

There was a dumbstruck silence in the bunker for a moment as Altail grappled with this realization. Finally, he said, "Pull the infantry guard from around the bunker and tell them to set up fortifications on the west perimeter of the command structures. Give those orders now!" He barked the last words at the communications officer, who scrambled to the console, talking very quickly into a headset.

"What Anti-Zoid weaponry do those troops have?"

"Uh..." the major pulled a blue binder from a nearby pile and flipped through it. "A number of rocket launchers and shaped explosives. There are the AZ rifles from the civilian militia, but they'll be useless against armor that thick. We have a pair of AZ mortars for the infantry, as well."

"The west perimeter also has some AZ mines, sir!" shouted someone from across the room.

"Okay," said Altail. "Then that's the best bet we have to defend the compound. Get those troops moving! Get them dug in. You – check with nearby units to see if anyone has artillery or ballistics available to help defend the base. And bring the UAV around so I can see what's going on."

A "Yes, sir!" came back from somewhere in the Bunker, as everyone seemed to spring into action at once.

Altail returned his focus to the screen, where the view from on high shifted and the camera swung around, showing the advancing Blade Ligers trudging through meters-deep debris. At full speed, a Blade Liger could close the 500-meter gap to the complex in less than ten seconds. Fortunately for everyone, full speed was a distant fantasy in the shattered East Vedere, and the powerful melee Zoids were creeping rather than running through the wreckage-strewn street. That bought the Backdraft minutes instead of seconds.

The Backdraft's eye in the sky could avoid all that, and drifted seemingly lazily over the scene below and over the crumbling west wall of the former headquarters building of the Group. Instead of Blade Ligers, Altail could now see allied soldiers scrambling to find cover, setting up machine guns and rocket launchers, digging their trenches just a little bit deeper before their wreck of a perimeter collapsed into warfare.

"Bring the UAV around again," Altail barked. Instantly, the camera came around yet again, and Altail now had a view of the west wall.

"How's Captain Spanner doing?" asked Altail.

The communications officer responded. "Unfortunately, Captain Spanner's path is still blocked, sir. They're working to get through as fast as they can. Also, the Captain reports that his unit's Iron Kong has already expended its ballistics, so we're not getting any support from that quadrant. However, I have some good news."

"Which is?" Altail immediately looked up at the sign of good news.

"I have a Lieutenant Taches on the line who says that she and her unit have managed to reach the main doors to one of our underground Zoid hangars which we initially thought was lost. She has just had pilots man the battle-ready Zoids she found there. Among those Zoids are Cannon Tortoises Echo through Romeo."

"Echo through Romeo? That's fourteen Zoids!"

"Yes, sir. Unfortunately, those Cannon Tortoises have no line of sight, but they're only one klick away. We'll need to call in strikes against a set of coordinates."

"Tell Lieutenant Tachels to get those Tortoises ready to shell the enemy. Have her tell me the moment they are ready. And tell the troops that artillery support is becoming available."

As Altail heard the words leave his own lips, he saw the damaged perimeter wall shake. Then again, and again, and suddenly a huge chunk of the wall came loose. The UAV camera panned out, and Altail saw that the Blade Ligers were firing their Dual Impact Cannons into the wall. It would only take a few volleys for them to breach that defense. The troops undoubtedly saw and heard the attack. They had to be ready.

Several more shots punched holes in the wall big enough for a man to walk through. Then, one of the Blade Ligers launched itself at the wall. The reinforced concrete – or what was left of it – crumbled beneath the weight of the Zoid, and in the blink of an eye, the four Blade Ligers poured through the gap. The Backdraft soldiers opened fire immediately, machine gun rounds and AZ rifles firing wildly, though neither weapon could really damage the massive and heavily armored Ligers. One zealous pilot charged forward, toward the Backdraft fortifications.

There were only about a fifty meters between the Backdraft troops and the Blade Ligers, which was nothing to the one charging forward. However, the great Zoid only got a few bounds before a massive explosion wracked the Zoid, blowing off its front legs, kicking up tremendous dust, and causing the Blade Liger to fall into CSF. It took Altail a moment to realize that an AZ land mine had destroyed the first of the four enemy Zoids. The remaining three Ligers wouldn't dare approach the now. That didn't mean they couldn't do damage, though.

The Blade Liger was strongest in melee, but the three pilots left standing didn't seem to feel any need to play to their strengths – not if they risked running into a mine, anyway. The three fanned out, and stood opposite the field of battle from the Backdraft fortifications. They started firing their Dual Impact Cannons indiscriminately, and brought the blade-mounted pulse laser cannons to bear, as well. They didn't seem to hit much, but it kicked up tremendous dust and smoke and began to obscure even Altail's bird's eye view of the battle. The Ligers didn't move a muscle, despite the desperate attacks of the opposing troops. Even a direct hit from an AZ rocket didn't rattle the phalanx of Ligers.

Even through the dust, Altail could see something changing on the bodies of the Blade Ligers. He could see the shifting of metal and firing of pneumatics, and saw armor plates moving back to reveal something... At first the Colonel thought they were mines or probes, but then realized that the moving black dots were people – Commission troops who wouldn't trip AZ mines -- jumping out of hidden pods to blitz the impromptu bolt-holes and barriers set up by the Backdraft defenders.

The UAV camera was low resolution, but Altail could see the dangerous black glint of obsidian body armor – the hallmark of the elite Commission Special Forces – the Eisian Dragoons. The Dragoons were a unit that had been founded by the traitor Admiral Günther Prozen centuries ago. The Dragoons had survived the fall of two imperial dynasties and the rise of the Zoid Battle Commission. The unit was founded by Prozen with one ideal in mind: absolute loyalty. The Dragoons had retained that principle over the long ages, but had also become an increasingly sharp and refined fighting force. Now, they were the pride of the Commission military and the right hand of Coulston himself, ready to fight and die for their country at a moment's notice. It was these fearsome troops who were used in the bloody suppression of the Eastern Rebellions, and these troops who were now facing the Backdraft on the streets of East Vedere.

Though many special forces units traditionally wore black to blend with the night, the Dragoons' coloration was unique. They alone among all the units of the Commission military were issued enhanced body armor, a product of many years of hard work and study of Zian nano-technology. The armor was an integrated powered exoskeleton that gave the soldier within a substantial boost to speed and strength, but was most notable because it was many times more effective than normal class IV body armor at stopping bullets.

What Altail saw on the UAV was just an image – not real, seemingly distant through the foggy, magnified picture, even if the battle was uncomfortably close in reality. He therefore could only appreciate, but not experience, the sheer terror that Eisian Dragoons inspired on the field of battle. It was to the credit of the Backdraft defenders, who were faced with enemy armor and superior troops, that not one of them seemed to give up or to run or to escape. Then again, there was no escape, not really. Altail was sure that the Commission had declared that there was to be no quarter for the Backdraft after they had not surrendered in the initial holocaust.

The Backdraft fired into the great clouds of dust and haze that the Commission Ligers had kicked up... Altail could again imagine the desperate and deafening rat-tat-tat of his troops' machine guns, the roar of their mortars, the whoosh of their rockets as they fired at a deadly enemy they could not see. But Altail, with his view from on high, could see the Commissioners, blitzing the Backdraft nests with unnatural speed and arrogant overconfidence. The latter was their undoing.

The Commissioners broke the screen of dust, and the first few leading the charge were cut down mercilessly by Backdraft gunfire. The next wave met with no better a fate, as rockets began to swin into the staggered Commission lines and down the next line of zealous chargers. Altail smiled grimly. Each new generation of weapons of war brought a new series of problems. For example, machine guns were often mistaken by troops for laser beams, ultimately depleting ammunition and leading to defeat as the weapon's barrel overheated, rendering it useless. Enhanced body armor had the same problem as the Zoid or the now-obsolete tank – the fighter thought himself to be invincible and unstoppable, with powered armor surrounding him. Little did these Commissioners know (or if they knew intellectually, they had not made the connection instinctually) that enhanced body armor fell to one or two heavy machine gun rounds, even if smaller calibers bounced off of it ineffectually, and a rocket would do the same thing rockets always did to a person...

A kind of twisted natural selection occurred on the battlefield, as the more idiotic Commissioners died in the first charges, while the veteran ones found cover. As the Blade Ligers and fellow soldiers provided covering fire, more Commission advances began. They waited for a full minute as Backdraft gunfire died away, as the majority of the machine guns overheated... the very flaw Altail had just thought about. Then the real charge started.

For one heart-wrenching second, Altail thought that the Commissioners would surely storm the lines and the foxholes and take the field of battle, but Altail immediately knew that he had been wrong. The Colonel watched as the Backdraft gunners revealed that they clearly weren't as weak as they'd let on. A barrage of fire cut down swathes of soldiers, complemented by rockets, grenades, assault rifle fire, and mortars. With pride swelling in his chest, Altail noticed that not a single Backdraft position had fallen. Unfortunately, many of their soldiers had... the Commission had used the Blade Ligers as great troop carriers, and literally hundreds of soldiers swarmed the field. This was battle of attrition the Backdraft would not win...

"Sir! Artillery reports – ready to fire!"

Altail spun around. "Fire on the coordinates of those Blade Ligers!"

"Yes, sir. Artillery is moving into base-line position... shot over!"

Altail turned back to the screen, counting the seconds as they passed. The Commissioners formed up for another charge... larger, as a hundred or more black, glinting suits lept from behind cover and ran. Had something gone wrong? Was the artillery strike not coming? Time slowed to a crawl as the Dragoons ran. The Backdraft wouldn't win this one... there were too many, too well armed, too fast, too strong...

And then, the shells came down from the heavens, like a line of cleansing fire and deliverance sent from a greater power. The explosions rocked the battlefield, and Altail realized he could hear it... not because the UAV could suddenly pick up the sound, but because the sound was so loud that it had carried all these meters beneath the ground. When the dust cleared, the field was all but magically free of Commissioners, enemy Ligers in CSF. The remaining Commission troops were fleeing or had surrendered. There was whooping from all around the Colonel, and Altail almost felt like cheering himself.

Suddenly, there was a loud, blaring alarm. It stopped abruptly, and a gruff voice said, "Internal security alarm. Look."

Altail did look, and his throat went suddenly dry. The battlefield scene had disappeared, and it was replaced with a black-and-white security camera image of the elevator shaft, leading into the subterranean Backdraft command bunker. A dozen or more figures, all clad in an eerie obsidian black, were rappelling down the shaft.

"They must have come around the other side during the fighting, taking advantage of the distraction. They've cut power to the shaft, so its going to be hard to get reinforcements in from the surface." The gruff voice, which Altail realized belonged to the sergeant of the guard, continued. "I estimate the enemy strength to be two squads. Orders, sir?"

The Sergeant now looked at Altail.

"Yes," said the Colonel, regaining his composure. "Sergeant, take your squad and whoever else you need to help you, and take up a defensive positions at the end of the hall. We are going to close and jam the blast doors leading into the command center. I'm coming with you." Altail was surprised to hear those words coming out of his mouth, but he immediately agreed with them. He hadn't slept or eaten much in more than three days, and suddenly, through the bleary haze, it seemed perfectly natural to him to take up arms in defense of the bunker.

At the Colonel's last statement, the Sergeant did a double take. For the briefest of moments, Altail again regretted never taking the time to learn even a single name from among the members of the staff in this very room. But the past days had just been putting out fire after fire, never a second to spare for personal well-being or social niceties.

"You heard me, Sergeant. There's no time to waste. Get your group together and meet me in the hall. Major, you are in charge." The Major opened his mouth to say something, but Altail stifled the objection with a raised hand. "Those are my orders. You are in charge until I return. Which I will. Move quickly. They are coming." There were no further comments, as the room sprung into action before Altail.

As Altail walked out into the hall, he wondered if this was a mistake. There was no way out of the bunker, now that enemy troops had entered the facility – they had undoubtedly made sure that there was no escape through the elevator. Friendly troops couldn't get here, as the Commissioners had also cut power to the elevator before rappelling down, and given the current crisis situation throughout East Vedere, it was safe to say that none of the troops topside would have rappelling gear – or, if they did, they couldn't get down before the Commissioners shot them all to shreds anyway. Hence, this option.

Altail knew that if he were fatally wounded in this battle but the firefight was won by the Backdraft, he might die fairly needlessly and leave the Backdraft in a tricky leadership position. But Altail had no intention of dying. He drew his sidearm. Normally, the Colonel didn't carry a gun, but somewhere along the way in these last panicky, hectic days, he had picked one up. Most of the rifles were topside with the troops, so there wasn't much a chance that he could have picked up a better weapon anyway. Horrible, brutal, personal. That's what this was going to be like. Altail far preferred Zoid battles.

More then a dozen men, most in body armor and carrying the remaining rifles, spilled out of the door behind Altail. One man rushed forward, carrying an anti-personnel mine, hurriedly wiring the deadly explosive and linking it to a trip wire across the doorway – so that when the closed door opened at the end of the hallway, the shaped explosive charge would detonate. The other soldiers dragged boxes, crates, and every other sizable item they could find to create cover. A trio behind one barricade had mounted a small machine gun. Altail quickly positioned his own barricade and ducked behind it. Of all of the defenders present, he was furtherest from the doorway. The last line of defense.

With a crackle, the bunker's internal loudspeaker came to life and the voice of the major echoed through the hall. "Internal security cameras show that the intruders are coming down the B1 stairwell. We are sealing the command center." Somewhere behind him, Altail heard a mechanical click and then a loud clunk. There was no going back now – and there was no hiding place down here. A few stacked boxes and crates and a semiautomatic pistol were little solace.

"Twenty seconds to contact!" barked the sergeant, and everyone suddenly ducked.

A third of a minute passed in the blink of an eye. There was no handle on the door, but when the electronic keycard pad changed from red to green, Altail knew what must happen next. The door swung open ever so slightly, and a black-gloved hand with a green grenade, pin gone, peaked around the crack in the door...

But the door had opened enough, and with a deafening bang and flash of brightest light, the door was blown off of its hinges. The antipersonnel mine had detonated. A fraction of a second later, there was a second loud bang as the grenade, which the hand had never tossed and had been knocked back by the explosion, detonated as well. There was a moment of deadly silence, and then an eternity of deadlier noise. Bullets started flying.

Commission troops started pouring through the narrow doorway, somehow squeezing through two men at a time. Bullets and grenades poured at the advancing enemy, and like their zealous counter-parts in the battle above, the first few fell after only a few steps. The Colonel himself opened up on the enemy with his pistol, for the good it did, but he knew he was scoring hits. With explosions and bullets chipping away at the walls of the corridor, some Commissioner found room to lob in a grenade of his own. A few seconds later, not an explosion, but a cloud of smoke engulfed the room. Now, Altail could only see muzzle flashes and dark shapes. Unable to tell friend from foe, he reloaded his weapon and peered into the haze, trying to see the enemy...

There was a loud explosion as the barricade directly in front of Altail was wiped away by a rifle grenade. A moment later, a grunting and gasping figure appeared directly next to Altail. The figure pressed himself against the wall of crates. Altail recognized him immediately as a the Sergeant, though he had now lost his helmet, and a thin trickle of blood oozed down his cheek. There was no time to pass words though, as the crates making up their defense splintered and buckled from a spread of bullets from some unseen shooter.

A moment later, a huge black figure, clad head to toe in the enhanced body armor of an elite Commission soldier hurdled around the blockade, interposing himself between Altail and the Sergeant. Altail's heart seemed to stop in his chest, though the Colonel became aware that the enemy was not facing him. With a cry like a demon, the Sergeant brought up the butt of his rifle and whipped the Commissioner across the face. Though the black-clad cheek did turn, it came back with remarkable speed, and Altail imaging a perverse smile on the enemy's unseen features.

The Commissioner whipped the Sergeant with his own rifle, and the blow sent the Backdraft soldier staggering. Then, the Dragoon released one hand from his weapon and grabbed the Sergeant by the throat, lifting him with unnatural strength...

Up until this moment, Altail had all but forgotten that he was fighting, that he held a weapon. But all of a sudden, with a battle cry of his own, the Colonel lifted his pistol and fired once, twice, three times at the back of the Commissioner's helmet. The first and second shot seemed useless, but the third cracked the helmet along some unseen seam. The enemy began to turn, but Altail squeezed off a fourth and then a fifth shot, the first breaking the helmet entirely and the second killing the man beneath. The dead Commissioner slumped to his knees, releasing the Sergeant, but his dead hand's trigger finger tightened.

Altail's world was suddenly aflame with sound and assault rifle fire. The trail from the Commissioner's weapon, now unguided in a corpse's hand, streaked lazily backwards as the body slumped and crushed the rifle backwards. It drew closer to Altail, and suddenly, there was a stabbing pain in his calf, a pain like none he had ever felt before.

The Colonel knew that he didn't black out, and even remembered clumsily reloading his pistol and helping the Sergeant back to his feet. The latter immediately picked up his fallen assault rifle and fired into the smoke, but Altail could not stand. All he knew was that all shooting ceased a moment later, and soon men were yelling names and numbers.

"That's everyone! And the Colonel in here too. Get a medic over here, the Colonel is wounded." The Sergeant's voice echoed through the hall. A man who Altail had never seen up close before with a red plus-sign on his helmet ran up to him and pulled out a syringe, sticking Altail in the arm with it and pushing the plunger. The pain stopped immediately.

As the medic bent to check his leg, Altail heard himself saying, "I'm fine, its just a flesh wound. Tend to the others."

The medic persisted nonetheless, and the Sergeant said, "We were very lucky, Colonel. Not a single man dead, though all of us casualties in one way or the other. No one is too badly wounded, though. Donovan got her face chopped up pretty badly, but she's still walking and talking, and Cern won't loose the arm." The medic removed the bullet from Altail's leg with a pair of forceps, then swabbed the wound with something that Altail was sure would have stung were it not for the morphine.

"That's good to hear," Altail said, though he had no idea who either individual mentioned was. "Check the internal security cameras and see..."

"I already have, sir. Interal security shows all clear."

"Alright, then. Radio our forces topside and tell them to send a team down sweep the whole bunker and make sure there are no Commissioners left in here. Don't use the security cameras – eyeballs. Cameras can be tampered with."

"Yes, sir."

As the Sergeant raised a radio to his mouth and began to relay the order, the medic said, "You can stand, sir. Here lean on me." Staggering only a little, Altail allowed himself to be helped to his feet. Just as he gained his footing, Altail heard a whooshing behind him, and slowly turned around.

The Major was standing beside the open command center door. "We saw the whole battle via the security camera, sir. Unfortunately, we don't have time to dwell on that right now, because we've just gotten a radio message from another Backdraft unit."

"Another unit? You mean from outside the city?"

"Yes, sir. Requesting to speak to Command actual."

"But the jamming..."

"The jamming is down, sir. And it looks like the Hammer Kaisers may have been destroyed. The radio message, though... You won't believe who's on the other end of the line."

And even before Altail was offered a communicator, even before he heard the voice, he knew who it must be, and he knew he was about to surrender command and be called to task for his attempted murder.

* * *

Subchapter 1.3: Turning the Tide

20 Kilometers West of East Vedere

1/5/-01 (Before the Chaotic Age)

Morning

The Battle of East Vedere, Concurrently

"Ready to mobilize Berserk Fury." Vega Obscura spoke as he flipped the last few switches to complete the pre-combat launching procedure.

"Vega, please be careful." Sarah's voice was crackling over the loudspeaker.

"Don't worry, Sarah. I'll be okay." Vega spoke confidently as the hangar doors opened before him. With a roar, the Fury charged out of the mouth of the Whale King and into the open.

They had set down 20 kilometers west of East Vedere – the closest they could find a suitable landing spot. They were about halfway between the twin cities – East and West Vedere. However, the Zoids would have to cross the last stretch to the city on foot. After almost 5000 kilometer's travel the Whale King was out of fuel as was and had to set down anyway. It had taken them almost four days to reach the city via their extremely circuitous route, but they'd managed to dodge trouble. They reached East Vedere unharmed and without engagement.

It had taken the Whale King's repair bay almost two days to fix the Berserk Fury, mainly because Vega Obscura insisted on doing most of the work himself. The majority of the damage to the 'Fury was mercifully in its neck, armor the area of the Zoid Control Conduit – crippling to damage but easy to fix. The ship's machine shop had produced and mounted new armor for the damaged sections, mainly around the neck and head, but the crews aboard Vega's ship had definitely seen worse.

The real challenge had been the Geno Saurers. Having been hit by a charged particle gun, the trio of predator Zoids might well have been blown to pieces. Fortunately for the Zoids but unfortunately for the pilots, Vega had purposefully aimed high, destroying the heads and cockpits of the Geno Saurers and dealing significant damage with the shockwave of his attack – but leaving the Zoid Cores intact. The three CPG-wielding attack Zoids were equipped with Backdraft IFF devices and stamped with Backdraft symbols, but no one had asked why they had attacked Vega. The repair crews simply did as they were told and got to work immediately, and after three grueling days, they had managed to assemble three cockpits and necks from spare parts and mount the new hardware. A little elbow grease, spit-shine and polish, and the Geno Saurers looked good as new.

Now, there was a full complement of fourty Zoids aboard Vega Obscura's Whale King. Six were aerial Storm Sworders, which left thirty-four terrestrial Zoids – the Fury itself, the three Geno Saurers, and thirty other Zoids, most of which were Molgas and the like. The Geno Saurers and the Berserk Fury were the only high-end Zoids onboard, and Vega meant to lead the lot of them into battle. Sarah had been concerned every step of the way, of course, but what good is a general who sits in his tent?

Vega had insisted. Bit Cloud was the only man ever to have defeated him. No one else could. Vega was now charging out of the Whale King's mouth-bay doors, three Geno Saurers tailing him closely as a kind of a vanguard. Lagging a dozen or so meters more behind him, Molgas began to roll into action and out of the hangar. They were mobilizing all fourty Zoids (the Storm Sworders were already in flight) – leaving nothing to secure the Whale King or "hold down the fort". If East Vedere fell, there would be no fort to hold down.

"General?" The voice of the Whale King communications officer crackled over the radio. "I've cycled through all of the normal Backdraft frequencies and they're all being jammed by the Commission. This is just a random, unused channel. If the one we're using right now also becomes inoperative, we have several backups. However, we won't be able to contact Backdraft command directly."

"Thank you. Keep me posted if anything changes, please." Vega's voice sounded odd and high as he gave orders – not the voice of a general. The voice of an almost carefree child, who was supremely confident in his own abilities. This would be the first time that Vega was actually leading a force into battle – he normally just fought on his own against so many opponents in the unsanctioned Zoid Battling circuit. Would it be much different? There would be a lot more participants, but otherwise the same. No rules and dangerous.

The terrain around East Vedere was green with trees, underbrush, and all manner of flora and fauna, which gave the Verdis region its name. When traced to its ancient roots, Verdis and Vedere referred to something regarding greenness, quite appropriate given the amount of plant life. However, the landscape here was also very hilly, preventing the Whale King from landing any nearer than twenty kilometers. The force would have to cover the rest of the distance on their own.

Fury could do the walking by himself, so Vega turned to take a good look at everyone he was leading. The Geno Saurers right behind him were dangerous in close and ranged combat and could easily take care of themselves, so he cast his attention even further backwards. Mostly, he saw Molgas, maybe a dozen or more. As he focused on the closest one, Vega noticed that there were several armed Backdraft soldiers riding on the back of the Molga. There was another element to war, too – out of the cockpit, infantry battling. He'd always known this, but this concept had always been alien to Vega. Perhaps he would become better acquainted with it over the course of the fight.

He was being distracted from the Zoid complement, though. Maybe a dozen Molgas. No Rev Raptors – odd, given how common of a Zoid it was. They did, however, have a small complement of Helcats and a matching group of Command Wolves, a pair of Black Rhimos and another pair of Shield Ligers, a trio of Zaber Fangs, and right in the center of this battalion, a single modified Dark Horn, lumbering powerfully along the uneven ground with the best of them. Providing support for the unit was a single Gustav, using its combination of 3D Doppler Radar and infrared sensory package to give some advanced warning if enemies approached.

As the group trudged on the through the forest, the silence was interrupted by the beeping of Vega's communications console. Suddenly, the screen flickered to life – it was the Gustav crew.

"General, IR sensors show a Rev Raptor about a hundred meters in front of us."

Vega immediately stopped marching, and the battalion halted behind him. Almost without thinking, Vega had the Fury's Buster Arms deploy into the AZ185mm Beam Cannons that gave the Fury all of its conventional ranged prowess. His eyes scanned the thick foliage, and everything was quiet. Then, suddenly, a glint of steel through the leaves that so fleeting and so small, a lesser pilot would have surely missed it. But _he_ was Vega Obscura. As one, Vega and the Fury fired the ranged weapons through the Vedere forest to strike an unseen Rev Raptor some hundred meters away.

The battalion did not stop to bask in the skill of their leader for long. The Molgas directly behind Vega's line of Geno Saurers leaped into action, rocketing at highway speeds – reckless in a forest – towards the fallen scout. Vega charged after them at a safer rate, and the Rev Raptor soon came into view. A Molga, laden with half a dozen Backdraft infantry, approached first. As the men hopped off of the Zoid and charged, weapons leveled, towards the smoking target, the Raptor's cockpit popped open. The Commission pilot who emerged reached for his sidearm – but the reports of several assault rifles told Vega that the Backdraft soldiers had been faster. As the pilot fell dead, the Commission co-pilot slowly exited the cockpit, hands reaching towards the sky. After clearing the wreck, the unknown co-pilot, now a prisoner, sank to his knees and placed his hands behind his head.

Infantry flooded the cockpit of the downed Rev Raptor, and it wasn't long before Vega received incoming communications. An infantryman, standing on the ground in front of the Gustav, appeared on the monitor.

"General, I have some good news. We've captured an enemy Zoid and co-pilot. The POW has been hauled back to the Gustav. We haven't formally debriefed him yet, but we've already extracted some useful information from him."

"Such as?"

"Well, he wasn't in the forest looking for us. His orders were to attempt to find Backdraft forces fleeing the city that slipped past the initial blockade and then radio back for support. Commission radio is working, of course, but they've jammed most of our standard frequencies. Radar is out, too."

"That means that there's still a battle going on. How many Commission soldiers are here?"

"Prisoner reported two Hammer Kaisers transported a hundred Zoids into the city, General. There are two enemy brigades here, according to him, so that could well be 10,000 soldiers, sir. They don't really have an estimate on Backdraft forces still alive, but they started moving into the city as of the this morning and have encountered heavy but inferior resistance. The good news is that we have the element of surprise. We checked his radio logs, and there's no mention of us anywhere."

"Good. Leave this wreck here and we'll keep moving." They could only hope that the Commission was too busy with other kinds of fighting to notice a little gunfire and a single missing Rev Raptor. They were less than a kilometer from the edge of the forest as was. After that, the treeline would break into a view of the city. Vega lived here and he had trained here. He'd seen it a million times before.

It was only a few short minutes, dodging around some rough terrain, before that clearing that Vega knew so well approached. The tree branches above, in the startling beauty of the Vedere forest, began to thin and tremendous light cracked through the canopy to the ground below. Moments later, the fleet-footed Fury had broken through the trees entirely, and was standing in a massive clearing overlooking East Vedere. The Fury came to a halt at the edge of a steep hill, and stopped completely. Not because that great Ultimate X couldn't foot the descent, but because Vega had stopped. The child-general didn't even notice as his forces pulled in behind him.

Vega had never seen a warzone before. He had imagined them, watched films about them in the Chaotic Century of antiquity, but he had never seen one before. There were no wars on Zi – until now. Every building in East Vedere that Vega could see, including his skyscraper of a home, had been razed to the ground. That he had been expecting – it wasn't what caused the change over his young face. While most couldn't resolve more than multicolored blob at this distance, Vega's keen eyes could see them – the hundreds upon hundreds of charred corpses and bodies, simply littering the street. Vega gulped to himself, feeling sorrow and internal fury raising towards the Commission. Fury... there was no better Zoid to be in for Fury.

There were troops fighting on the ground, but from here Vega couldn't tell if they were friend or foe. Besides, there might be more civilians trapped or hiding in the rubble and ruins of the city. However, Vega turned his neck skyward to the Commission-dominated skies, and there he found targets. He shouted something into his radio – he couldn't hear himself – but it became clear that his message got across. His Berserk Fury and the three Geno Saurers each craned towards the heavens, and an instant later, six Charged Particle beams lanced through the sky and towards a pair of barely visible Hammer Kaisers. One of the Geno Saurer's beams clipped one of the great flying transports, wracking it with internal explosions and sending it plummeting from its place in the sun. Vega's aim, on the other hand, could be said to be truer. All three of the Fury's beams pierced the other on its underbelly and broadside, and within seconds had gutted the ship.

As two burning meteors, symbols of enemies vanquished, fell back to Zi, half a dozen Backdraft Storm Sworders rocketed overhead, heading towards an equal number of black specks – Commission aircraft, no doubt. The battle was beyond even Vega's eyes, but the radio chatter gave all the details.

"We've engaged the enemy. Break into three finger-four pairs and get in close enough for IR guided missile lock. Remember, you don't have radar so don't get cocky!"

Several "Roger"s came back over the radio.

"This Alpha One, starting my run with Alpha Two. Visual contact, there are four Redlers here... Fox two! Hit! Got two and I-- Bandit on my six!"

"I see him."

"Damnit, get him off me."

"Lock! Got him!"

"Thanks, but those two Redlers just pulled up-"

"This is Five. Six and I have got 'em, don't worry. Fox two – got 'em!"

"Good – don't get cocky..."

"This is Four – Bandit on my six. I-"

"We lost Four! Three, pull up! Damn it – can't get an IR lock."

"This is Three - I'm up but I've taken damage. That boogie that tagged Four was a Battle Cougar!."

"This is One. Three, your right engine is on fire. Return to base immediately."

"Willco, One but I -"

"Leave the 'Cougar to Two and me."

"Willco."

"This is One. Moving in against the Battle Cougar. Almost got a lock. Almo- damn! He pulled up, I'm going after him."

"One!"

"They're in a Rolling Scissors!"

All Vega could see was two black dots, presumably one Commission Battle Cougar and one Backdraft Storm Sworder, rolling around each other ever higher and higher in the sky. Suddenly, one plummeted away from the other at an acceleration too regular to be a controlled dive. Vega held his breath. Then, there was a whooping over the radio.

"This is one – chalk up one Commission Battle Cougar for the kill board. Got him with a blade attack."

Vega Obscura hadn't been listening to the transcript very intently. His focus had been elsewhere, as he brought the Berserk Fury at full speed towards the nearest Commission emplacement. Though he had no radar or IFF signals, he'd spotted the enemy from afar. Now, he was going to crush them. Vega could feel anger for crushing his home, and for destroying the Backdraft, and for killing so many. A large part of his brain seemed unaffected, though, simply having sunk into the rhythm of battle.

The general had left the unit far behind, perhaps staring at the aerial furball or the fiery rain of the Hammer Kaiser wrecks. After only a moment, yells came over the radio – Vega calmed ordered that they follow him as fast as they could. Then, he switched off his communication system. He would do this alone.

The Fury reached the first barricade in a matter of moments. It was a poorly constructed line of sandbags and an impromptu wall and trench, blocking the road into the remains of the city. Backing that line was a multitude of Rev Raptors, Molgas, Aro Saurers, and several Gorhecks. Towering above the rest was a single Gojulas, equipped with the distinctive barrels of a pair of Republican Super Cannons. That mighty Zoid was in turn flanked by two Red Horns – walking weapons platforms and armed to the teeth.

Vega glanced down at a dial. His Charged Particle weapons were still recharging – the mighty Ultimate X still recouping the power it had lost during the last attack. He'd have to fight them with conventional weapons. Vega could almost feel sorry for them.

Somehow, they didn't seem to have noticed him yet. Vega threw the element of surprise to the wind and simply started pulling back on the trigger. Bolt after bolt emitted from his AZ185mm Beam Cannons, tearing through the armor of Zoids like so much rice paper. Several Molgas and Rev Raptors were laying flat by the time the dug-in unit came about face. Now, for the real challenge.

The Fury roared in defiance as it raced towards its enemies – the Ultimate X swerving side to side almost faster than the eye could follow, returning fire and dropping enemies like so many flies. Despite this, the pilot of the Gojulas was both quick and unfazed. He swung his mighty Zoid around, the Republican Super Cannons flailing from inertia, probably one of the most fearsome and incredible sights that Vega had ever seen. However, even the Fury was finite in speed and power – it was impossible to reach or destroy from a range so powerful a machine before it got the shell off. The Super Cannon had incredible splash and power, so much so that it might even seriously damage the Berserk Fury. Nonetheless, Vega brave onwards. The Gojulas turned, waited for its cannons to settle down... and at the last moment, Vega threw the crucial switch.

An almighty bang resounded through the Vedere woods and city – the report of one of the most powerful production weapons ever created. Two 360mm HEAZ (High Explosive Anti-Zoid) rounds hit the Fury straight on, kicking up local dust and asphalt into a opaque cloud. As one, the Molgas all fired off their missiles, the Gorhecks saturated the area with mortars, the Dark Horns brought their mighty Hybrid Vulcans around and fired. It seemed there was no way that even an Ultimate X could survive such a barrage from so many Zoids.

A second later, the dust cleared – and the Berserk Fury was safe and untouched by the barrage, behind its scarlet E-Shield. Vega took advantage of the momentary stun and shock of his opponents, and rocketed forwards. Before anyone could react, Vega had crossed the gap between the parties and slammed a Buster Claw through so-many centimeters of armor in the Gojulas' neck, severing the Zoid Control Conduit (ZCC) from cockpit to Zoid before the Super Cannons could reload. The Commission Zoids began to come around to oppose him – the Dark Horns quickly swinging their Hybrid Vulcans to shoot him into oblivion. However, Vega mustered whatever unholy force powered the Fury, and swung the Gojulas at the Dark Horns with a mighty heave. The falling colossus trounced the first of the two Horns, crushing one and blocking the path of the other.

The second's hesitation of the remaining Dark Horn was all Vega needed, and then the Fury was on top of it. The Buster Arms rose and fell twice, pinpointing weak points on the heavily armored behemoth, and then the Fury pulled back. The last Dark Horn fell motionless on the ground. Vega turned on the remaining Zoids of the Commission blockade and rocketed in – Gorhecks, Aro Saurers, Molgas, and Rev Raptor fell left and right. Vega, young though he was, had seen the markings on these Zoids dozens of times. They were Eisen Dragoons, the elite Special Forces of the Zoid Battle Commission. Whenever Loramere rebelled, it was the Dragoons who quashed the disturbance. Now, these soldiers had been sent against the Backdraft. The Dragoons were fearsome. Elite, absolutely loyal, and willing to die for the sovereignty of the Commission at the drop of a hat. They never betrayed or deserted their caused, never retreated or surrendered.

And yet, it seemed that Vega Obscura was a man who could break all the rules. A boy who walked the line between human and legend – and was bound by the laws of neither. It seemed to Vega that he struck fear even into the hard hearts of the Eisen Dragoons. When the Fury pounced into the thick of them, all of the Zoids scattered and scampered, breaking into a hard retreat. Ironically, there was no where to run. They couldn't advance through their own barricade, nor could they advance through the sheer walls on either side of the street, so those that Vega didn't catch immediately instead turned tail and ran – fleeing to the forest. Unfortunately for them, it was just as futile an effort as charging into their own blockade. After only a second or two, Vega's forces broke from inside the treeline and opened fire, slaughtering the routed troops.

Less than a minute later, when the last Commission Zoid submitted to the Backdraft onslaught, Vega took a quick headcount. Thirty Dragoons' Zoids (though about twenty were Rev Raptors, Molgas, or Aro Saurers) had fallen in battle, at the cost of not even a single Backdraft soldier. Another minute passed, and Backdraft footsoldiers flooded the Zoid wreckages and a small section of a barricade. The fighting was very quick. The Eisen soldiers that Vega saw emerge from their cockpits, waving and firing their weapons wildly, were mowed down. None surrendered, like the pilot they encountered earlier had. After a few more rifle reports indoors, Vega got a radio message.

"We've found what looks like a Command Center for this barricade, general. Unfortunately, it also looks like there's nothing of value here. The Commissioner burned pretty much every document, I'd guess. They also put more than a few bullets into most pieces of electronics equipment here. There's still a few functioning machines, but they're password protected and likely have all essential data encrypted, so they're unfortunately useless."

"What do they need equipment inside a barricade for?" asked Vega. A pause followed.

"I don't know, General. This looks like information warfare equipment – maybe a radar system - I can't tell."

"Hm..." A thought struck Vega.

The general scanned the top of the barricade for something looking like a radar dish, and saw a pair on part of the roof of the impromptu installation. Vega maneuvered the Fury a bit around the compound for a clearly shot, then switched to his long-ranged beam cannons. Vega's trigger fell back twice, and two sets of bursts erupted from the Fury, neatly annihilating both dishes.

Immediately, Vega heard a crackling over his radio.

"General Obscura! We've regained contact with High Command!"

"Put me through if you can – tell them I want to speak to Command actual."

There was only about a minute's pause, before a authoritative man's voice burst over the speaker.

"This is Command actual."

"This is General Vega Obscura. I and my unit are reporting for duty."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the connection. "No, sir, we're reporting to you. This is Colonel Altail, and it is my duty to inform you, sir, that you are the highest ranking officer who is not currently dead or incapacitated."

It was Vega's turn to inhale sharply. He recovered quickly from the shock – he knew Colonel Altail. It was Altail who had sent the Geno Saurers to assassinate Vega – but that would have to be dealt with later, if ever.

"Very well, Colonel. Situation report?"

"I'd love to give it to you in detail, General Obscura, but in short, we have to evacuate the city. However, there's a problem: Endurance Station will back in firing arc of the city in just a few minutes. The Commission will just pound all of our forces on the surface into dust and we won't be able to evacuate with that thing overhead.

"I may just be able to fix that Colonel."

Vega turned his neck skyward. Above him was kilometers of clear sky, and no mere human, however good his or her eyesight, could ever hope to see a station in orbit high above. Still, when Vega turned the Fury skyward, it and he knew exactly where to shoot. As the Charge Particle Guns from the Fury powered up, the head of the great tyrannosaurus made the slightest adjustments, tracking the target through the noon sky.

And then a brilliant blue and white beam of sheer destruction lanced up at nearly the speed of light through so many kilometers of bare air and atmosphere, charging up through the heavens until it reached the target above... the beam struck the station's underside and the station was gutted in a glorious explosion, visible to even Vega's poor human eyes a world below.

After a moment lost in pride at the sheer beauty of the destruction, Vega gave an order. "Begin the evacuation. We're abandoning the city."

* * *

Subchapter 1.4: The War Begins

Blitz Team Headquarters

1/5/-01 (Before the Chaotic Age)

Afternoon

Later That Day

"Well, that's over and done with Bit. You've payed me what you owe me. We're totally even. And, moreover, I doubt we'll have to worry about skimping on maintenance or repairs anymore. I should get all the Zoids an overhaul." Dr. Steven Tauros rubbed his hands together with glee as he looked at the new balance of his account. "And, I can pay off all our old debts with plenty still left over. Think of all the new parts we can buy..." Dr. Tauros' grin of anticipation became so wide, Bit might have mistaken him for a Cheshire cat.

Bit ran his fingers through his blond hair with dismay as glanced at his own bank statement. "Gee, thanks Doc. Leave some for me, why don't you?"

"Oh, come now Bit, it's not that bad. I know that you've still got quite a bit left over even after paying me off. And look on the bright side -- you've won the Royal Cup! You hold the Cup crown. All kinds of people are going to be challenging you now that you're a Class S pilot, and that means more wins and money for the Blitz Team. And besides, you're a celebrity now. You're famous, all over Zi! You'll probably get some kind of endorsement contract and you won't ever have to worry about money again. You can probably just relax and have fun for most of the off season."

"Ugh... but Doc, I don't want to be famous. I mean, I like the money and all, and I like fighting Zoid battles with Liger, but I really don't want to be famous. It's not all its cracked up to be."

"By the way, Bit, that reminds me – while you were out, four more news stations called and asked to schedule interviews with you."

Bit slapped his hand to his forehead and groaned, then lay back in his chair and stared upwards, as though he could find solace in the ceiling.

"Huh. Yep, you're a celebrity alright. You're so bogged down with interviews that you don't know what to do with them all." Brad Hunter had entered the room without Bit noticing. The mercenary pilot pushed some of his unruly hair out of his eyes and continued. "I guess a lot of people are impressed with you winning the Royal Cup like that. I even heard that some people are calling you a modern-day Van Flyheit. But don't let it go to your head."

"Van Flyheit," Bit echoed. He continued to stare straight up at the ceiling, but his green eyes had lost focus and seemed far away.

"Bit, are you alright? Hey, Bit!" Leena shouted at him. She stood from her seat and waved her hand in front of his eyes, which didn't track the motion. "Yeah, I think he let it go to his head."

Bit seemed to come back to the real world at those words. "Nah, I'm fine. It's just that..." Bit trailed off and ran his hand through his hair again. "...I remember when I was a kid, I used to hear stories about Van Flyheit. He started out as a Zoid pilot when he was really young, and he fought in the Great War during the Chaotic Century and during the Hiltzian War, and he defeated the Death Saurer twice. He was friends with the Emperor and the President and he mediated the Great Armistice. He's the most famous pilot who ever lived."

Bit fell silent for a while again. Then, he said, "I'm no Van Flyheit. I could never do all that. I could never be a great diplomat or negotiator, and I could never be a soldier because I could never kill people."

"Well," said Brad, "remember that Van Flyheit wasn't only a soldier – he was a Guardian Force fighter. He kept the peace in time of peace, too, and he's probably just as well remembered for that as he is for his victories in war. Guardians don't kill people."

"Yeah, well... maybe I can see myself as a Guardian Force fighter, but I'm not. Before I won the Royal Cup, no one ever really interviewed me or thought I was great. All I did was win one battle and suddenly I'm really famous. Van Flyheit did all kinds of things, not just one --"

"Doctor! Hey, Doctor Tauros!" Jamie came running into the room, panting hard. "Got... to... tell... you..." he uttered words between gasps.

"What is it Jamie? Now, have a seat and catch your breath."

Jamie slumped down into a chair and spent several seconds breathing hard before he managed to spit out, "The Zoid Battle Commission is on the line, Doctor Tauros. They say its really, really urgent and they want to speak to us."

"How long ago did they call?"

"Just a minute ago."

"Well, let's not keep them waiting. Here, put it on the main screen in here."

"Yes, Doctor..."

Jamie punched a few buttons.

Bit saw the Commission Crest appear on the screen, but only for a second. It soon gave way to the picture of a man – formally dressed and gruff. Bit Cloud would recognize him anywhere.

"Commissioner Coulston!" exclaimed Doctor Tauros in surprise. "What an honor it is to see you, sir. I hope that we didn't keep you waiting for very long."

"Oh, just a minute or so. It's no trouble at all – I can't expect everyone to conform to my schedule." Bit Cloud somehow had a feeling that if he had been talking to another group, the Commissioner would have been hopping mad about the delay.

"Anyway," continued Coulston, "onto business. As you know, the Blitz Team has worked with the highest echelons of the Commission before, and I hope we can again cooperate to bring a great public enemy to justice."

"You mean the Backdraft Group?" asked Dr. Tauros.

Coulston nodded.

"But why do you need our help again?" Bit objected. "I defeated Vega at the Royal Cup a few days ago, and it looked like the Commission had everything under control."

"To be honest with you, Mr. Cloud, I thought we did too. I thought it would be a simple matter to get rid of the Backdraft presence on Zi once and for all. Unfortunately, things didn't work out that smoothly. By the time our people got to the site of Vega's defeat, near that old Ultrasaurus wreck, they'd already hauled off the Zoid and the pilot both, and somehow managed to dodge around our air defense."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Commissioner," interjected Brad, "but that seems like a military problem to me. What do have to do with it?"

"A very good question. Well, the battle in East Vedere, the headquarters of the Backdraft Group, has been going on for three days now. We were steadily gaining ground right up until today, when Vega Obscura and his troops arrived at the city. We've managed to take over the city itself, but the Berserk Fury cut a line of retreat through our blockades and back out into the Vedere forests. I've even heard an initial report that the Fury took out the better part of an armored battalion all on its own. The fact of the matter is that we could take down the Fury, but it would be a major operation with lots of casualties. The Fury could also easily overpower any patrol we could reasonably set up, and could hide in the forests for years. The other problem is that that rebel Obscura and his Ultimate X have a Charged Particle Gun powerful enough to shoot satellites out of orbit, so orbital bombardment is out of the question. Along with most kinds of heavy guns. The easiest way to this, Bit, is with your help. You see, we know you've beaten him before. This time, with our support, there's no question you'll beat him again."

Bit gulped. "Well, thanks Mr. Commissioner... but, I'm not really a soldier. I'm not big on killing people."

"I guessed as much. Don't worry about it, Bit – all you have to do is take down the Fury with our help so we can apprehend Obscura. You won't have to do any of the normal fighting or soldier work."

"Well, then, I guess that Liger and I can help you take down Vega."

"Excellent! There was another reason I was calling, though. Mr. Hunter," the Commissioner looked at Brad, "we could also use your help in this matter. You see, the Backdraft are at home in these woods. We've got all kinds of sensors set up, but your Shadow Fox was designed and built by the Backdraft for forest combat. We think that its multisensor was designed to detect incoming authorities and dodge them. We can use it the other way 'round. The thing is, while we're trying to work out how to build them ourselves, yours remains the only one in Commission hands."

"I don't know, Mr. Commissioner," said the mercenary cooly. "I'm putting myself and my 'Fox at risk --"

"Of course, you'll be payed handsomely."

"Then when can we start?"

"One thing, first. I'm going to announce tonight that the Berserk Fury and a small group of Backdraft rebels are still at large in the Vedere forests, but I'm not going to give the public the whole picture. The Backdraft force is actually relatively large. It's nothing to worry about, but I don't want to cause a panic. This whole problem should be wrapped up in a few days with the Blitz Team's help. Still, I'm going to trust your discretion in this matter. Don't tell anyone what you're up to. No need to draw more attention to this then there already is. Hysteria spreads easily."

"You can count on us, Mr. Commissioner," said Dr. Tauros.

"Pack up whatever you need for a week or two's stay in the Verdis region. I'll send some people down to pick you up. The whole Blitz Team should come along. There's no reason not too. Anyway, I guess my people will get to your base in about an hour, so you should be ready to go by then. Short notice, I know, but if we want to get this taken care of quickly, we have to move quickly. Thank you for your cooperation."

"It was no problem," said Dr. Tauros.

"Well, thanks again. I'll be going, anyway. I have a planet to run, after all." With that, the screen switched back to the Commission crest.

"Wasn't that exciting, kids? The Commissioner of Zoid Battling personally asked us for our help."  
"Yeah," said Jamie, "but I wonder how they're going to be picking us up. If they have a Gustav or a Hover Cargo or something, our Hover Cargo would be just as fast."

"They might be sending a plane or something," suggested Leena.

"Nah," said Brad. "We don't have a runway, and our Zoids are way over the weight limit for a Dragonfly Stinger or anything like that. I bet the military is sending a Hover Cargo or something, for protocol's sake."

"Don't worry about it. They might be sending us ahead and sending the Zoids after us. You need to concentrate on packing up. You might have a long trip ahead of you, and you need to be ready. There's not much time." With that, Dr. Tauros shooed them out of the room.

Bit went through the motions of packing mechanically. He'd done it a million times before. Before he joined the Blitz Team, he'd been a kind of a wanderer, and he'd been used to being on the move. He could fit all of his worldly possessions, other than his truck and the Liger, in a single duffle bag. Bit took a moment to glance at the clock. He'd packed in less than ten minutes.

Instead of waiting around for everyone else, Bit wandered out into the Hover Cargo's lower Zoid cargo. There, waiting motionless between the obsidian Shadow Fox and the azure blue Gun Sniper, was the Liger Zero. It looked odd, still glistening white in the dim light of the hangar deck.

"Hey, buddy."

The Liger turned its head, red eyes shining with untold power behind them.

"We're going to go down with some friends to the Verdis region, to help to try to find a beat Vega Obscura and Berserk Fury again."

The Liger growled gently.

"I had a feeling that you'd want to go. That was one heck of a battle, wasn't it? I'm looking forward to another one."

Another growl.

"Yeah. I don't know about all this about capturing Vega Obscura, though. I mean, he was a really good pilot and I can see why the Commission would want our help, but he didn't seem like a bad person. I know the Backdraft sole and cheated, but _he_ didn't really do any of the stealing. He's just a kid! Still, a Berserk Führer is a legendary Zoid. He could really hurt people if it was used irresponsibly. All the same, I hope they're not too hard on him. After all, he's got no hope of winning now that we're on his tail. Right, buddy!"

The Liger roared, full force. Bit was sure that the entirety of the rest of the Blitz Team would just be wondering what was wrong in the hangar bay.

After a few minutes, no one came running down, though the Zoid's roar had left a ring in Bit's ears that had yet to subside. Maybe everyone had just gotten used to the Liger's erratic activities in the lower Zoid hangar.

Bit said nothing more. He didn't need to. He just leaned against one ivory white legplate of the Liger's armor and rested. He looked up, imagining stars that he couldn't see through the metal roof of the Hover Cargo or the bright afternoon sky. It was hard to imagine that he, Bit Cloud, held the Royal Cup crown. How could he be the ultimate Zoid warrior? The best pilot in the world? There were, of course, other Class S pilots, but none held the Cup crown, supposedly the highest honor that a Zoid pilot could achieve. Furthermore, rather than his entire team being declared victors, Bit Cloud had been singled out from the Blitz Team and focused on as the single champion.

In the past three days he'd held the crown, Bit had gone through countless interviews and received congratulations from every person he'd ever known. Three months ago, Bit Cloud had been the name of a cocky, second-rate junk dealer who liked Zoids and who scavenged shot-up parts from Zoid battlefields. Then, he'd met the Liger Zero and the Blitz Team and his life had changed in an instant.

Bit felt his pocket vibrate, and jumped just a little. It was his phone. He rarely ever got calls on his personal phone. A few relatives knew his number, but they had already called him. He'd somehow managed to keep his contact information away from the scourge that was the media, so he considered this to be a private line. Who could be calling now?

Bit stood, walked over to a video console, and set his phone into the slot. He hit a button to accept the call, and the screen flickered to life. Jack Sisco appeared in the monitor.

Bit was startled. "How did you get this number?"

"I know a guy. He has all the numbers. This is a secure transmission, by the way."

"Er... is that important?"

"No, I guess not. I've just always been one for security." With that, Jack peered around him, as though making sure no one was watching.

"Eh, did you call about anything in particular, Jack?"

"The same thing everyone calls about, I guess. I wanted to congratulate you on your performance at the Royal Cup. That was one hell of a stunt you pulled. You beat me, but I say it was a fluke. You're just lucky that I was out of commission for the end of the Cup or I would have taken down that Obscura kid myself."

"A fluke? Care to come over here and find out?"

"I'd love to show you what real pros are made of, kid, but the Commission strictly prohibits battles during the off season. They're dangerous and require full ZBC supervision – which the ZBC doesn't provide until the season starts up again."

"How about when the season starts again, then? You can come down to the Blitz Team base and we'll have a battle. I'll even give you the very first battle for the Royal Cup crown."

"Sorry, Bit, but I'm registered as a mercenary and any battle we have has to be a team battle. And even if I wasn't, I was partly calling to tell you that I'm moving out of the profession Zoid battling circuit for a while. I'm working on some projects right now, so I might skip a season. So, too bad, but you'll have to cool your guns there. Still, I know there are plenty of pilots in Class S who could pulverize you."

"Really, Jack? Sounds to me like you're just chickening out. I bet I've got you so scared you're shaking from your boots to your headband."

Jack Sisco chuckled when Bit uttered this taunt. "Not sure I've heard you talk like that before, kid. I won't tell you exactly what I'm up to, but let me tell you this: Where I'm going, a hundred of you and your Liger Zeros would be the least of my worries."

"I doubt it."

"Well, I'm not here to convince you that I'm all cavalier. Unlike you, that is. I hear that you're shipping out to Vedere to help the military catch Vega Obscura."

It took a moment to register with Bit that this was something that Jack Sisco definitely shouldn't know.

"How did you know --"

"Again, I know a guy. Let's just say that I have friends in very, very high places. There's not much secret that goes on around Zi that I don't know about. But don't worry, Liger Man. Your secret is safe with me. I know Coulston's afraid he'll cause a panic if word gets out that they had to ship you out east to contain the threat. But anyway, good luck tackling the Fury. We all saw you do it once. No problem doing it again, right?"

"Yeah! Liger and I are going to take care of the Backdraft Group and Vega, no problem!"

"You just keep telling yourself that. I think you'll find that fighting against a bunch of guerillas in the Vedere forests is a little tougher than your bargained for. But I should save my words: I've got a hellhole of my own to look forward too. Anyway, congratulations again. Enjoy the Royal Cup crown – while you can."

With that, Jack Sisco hit a button on the console before him, breaking the connection.

Bit picked his phone out of the slot in the viewer and slipped it back into his pocket. The Royal Cup crown... There was no physical crown, as there might have been. It was an abstract idea. A title. Something that signified that he, Bit Cloud, now stood alone. But his legs were getting tired and he'd rather be sitting.

Bit was about sit back down next to the Liger, when he heard his name.

"Bit! Hey, Bit, are you down here?" It was Jamie's voice.

"Yeah. I'm right here, Jamie."

Jamie's young face appeared around the corner, serious, with a touch a shyness and concern... so different from his Wild Eagle persona.

"What's up, Jamie?"

"Oh... well... I just wanted to talk to you about strategy in the Vedere forests. I was just thinking, it might not be so smart to use the Jager Armor. The speed won't be much of an advantage with all of those trees. You'll end up hurting yourself more than anything else. The Schneider Armor would probably be the best choice, though the Panzer and Zero Armors would work fine too. I'm guessing that we can't take more than a few of them, since we're probably going to Vedere in a Gustav or something, I'd recommend we leave the Jager Armor at home."

There was something about Jamie's face that betrayed his real motives.

"Jamie, you didn't really come down here to tell me that."

"Eh... oh... sorry, Bit. It's just that... about the Jager Armor..."

"What about the Jager Armor? Spit it out."

"It's just that when Doctor Tauros finished packing up... he had an idea."

Bit groaned.

"What kind of an idea?"

"I don't know. I think he wanted to rework the armor."

"Not if he's going to charge me for it, he's not!"

"Well, you see, Doctor Tauros --"

Suddenly, Jamie's voice was drowned out by an incredibly loud roaring sound. Bit's hands automatically snapped to his ears, as did Jamie's. The Liger immediately was alert and roaring, but even its mighty voice was drowned out. The noise lasted for about a minute, then started to get softer, then abruptly stopped. Still, the ringing in Bit's ears was incredible.

Dr. Tauros appeared from nowhere. "What was that? I was just taking a look at the Jager armor and I heard an incredible racket? Was that coming from in here?"

"Nope, sorry Doc. I kinda guessed that you were making it at first."

"It was probably coming from outside, then. We should go out and check..."

Then, there was a loud ring, heard throughout the entire building via the intercom.

"That's the doorbell!" said Jamie.

"It's just one thing after another today," said Bit.

Dr. Tauros said nothing, but raced off to the front door. Bit and Jamie followed him closely.

About fifteen seconds later, they'd reached the main entrance to the Blitz Team's base. Dr. Tauros checked the video camera, which showed a uniformed man standing right outside the door.

"It's a man from the military. That was prompt!"

Dr. Tauros opened the door.

"Hello," said Dr. Tauros.

"Hello. You're Dr. Tauros, I presume. I know that we've arrived about twenty minutes early, but I hope that's no problem."

"Oh, no problem at all. But, if I may ask, who are you?"

"I'm sorry, how rude of me. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Colonel Michael Carrihanh, Commission Air Force, Captain of the carrier_ Karl_ _Schubaltz_. My orders are to pick up the Blitz Team and escort them to the combat zone in Vedere."

"The carrier... _Karl Schubaltz_?" Jamie said with more than a little awe. Bit looked behind the Colonel and to the vessel behind him – something he hadn't noticed before. It was enormous, mainly black with the many red stripes of a Commission war ship. Bit recognized it as a Hammer Kaiser: not quite as large as a Whale King but a tyrant of the skies nonetheless, and armed to the teeth. They had pulled one of these titans out of its normal duties, just to pick up the little old Blitz Team.

Meanwhile, the Colonel seemed to mistake Jamie's awe at the Commission sending a Hammer Kaiser – any Hammer Kaiser – for awe at sending the specific vessel.

"Yes, quite correct. The ZBCS _Karl Schubaltz_ is the second ship of that name, the first having been a cruiser on the high seas." Carrihanh puffed out his chest, making the commendations on his uniform catch the light. "We've seen action in the three populated continents of Zi and in two oceans, and have been integral in suppressing the Lorameran rebels in the east. Now all I can say is that I hope we can do our part in putting down this Backdraft Group. Speaking of which, time is of the essence. Move your Hover Cargo aboard ship and we can lift off."

"Aboard... ship?" repeated Jamie. "You want to take the whole Hover Cargo?"

"Certainly. Don't worry, it's nothing we haven't done before. There's not much clearance and you have to go through the mouth bay, but your Hover Cargo will fit alright."

Dr. Tauros recovered from the shock quickly. "Alright, I'll go bring out the Hover Cargo. Jamie, why don't you check on Brad and Leena?"

Dr. Tauros and Jamie walked off, leaving Bit alone with the Colonel.

"Mr. Cloud, I presume?" The Colonel extended his hand.

Bit took it, though still somewhat bewildered.

"Mr. Cloud, I just wanted to say how much of an honor it is to be working with yourself and the rest of the Blitz Team."

"Oh, no, Colonel. The honor is all ours."

"Well, regardless, I'm still very glad to have had a chance to meet all of you. I'd like to stay and chat, but I have to go through our pre-flight checklist." The Colonel saluted and left.

As Bit watched the Blitz Team Hover Cargo roll out of the base hangar and towards the Hammer Kaiser, he was left wondering about all of the odd things that had happened to him today. Maybe tomorrow, on his way to -- or in Vedere, would yield some explanations for why the Commissioner of Zoid Battling had personally called, why he'd sent a Hammer Kaiser to pick them up, how Jack Sisco knew about it, or maybe just why all the damned reporters wouldn't leave him alone.

* * *

Author's Comments:

Well, that's the chapter 1, the second installment of the story of the Chaotic Age. You've run quite a gauntlet to have read that much, but I hope that means that you appreciate the work put into writing it! I greatly appreciate any reviews or feedback – questions, comments, concerns, and even criticism of any kind are all welcome. Again, feel free to visit our website (see the author's profile) if you'd like. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far, so until next time...

-Halen


	3. Chapter 2: Two Heroes and a King

Author's Comments:

First and foremost, I am obligated to renew the disclaimer I stated in the prologue. In no was is Zoids the property of Zoids: Chaotic Age Zero.

This chapter was obviously a long time coming (it's been over a year!) but I've been busy. I'm not exactly here to give excuses, but I've had a tremendous amount going, and my hands full several times over. However, it's frankly that time of year again (writing time), and while I'm not quite as prolific than those brave souls trying to write a novel this month, I estimate that I wrote at just under half the speed. I really started this chapter just after the beginning of the month, and it's finished at 23 pages and about 15,000 words, so there's plenty to read (though I realize it doesn't make up for my previous silence). I've didn't exactly proofread this chapter thoroughly either, so please excuse minor mistakes.

On a different note, lots has been going on at the site, check the Chaotic Age Zero official website if you want to find maps and other supplementary info to make this a bit more understandable (or if you wanted to join the site, that would be great too). As always, this is a combination of Chaotic Century, New Century Zero, and various Battle Story plot lines, and this combination becomes much more apparent in this chapter (though it obvious takes place at the time of NCZ), and a knowledge of the above three, or at least the former two, will become increasingly beneficial as the chapters go on by. Above and beyond that, I won't keep you from the chapter any longer. Enjoy!

* * *

Chaotic Age Zero

Chapter Two: Two Heroes and a King

(Transmission Source Unknown)

2/8/02

Second Year of the Chaotic Age

Present Day

Hm? The story? Oh, my apologies. One does tend to lose... perspective... yes, perspective. But there's no rush. History doesn't change, and we have all the time in the world after all... Speaking of which, time is a funny concept, isn't it? The start of the Second Chaotic Century has been regarded as one of the greatest upheavals in Zian history – so great that we now count the years from its start, just as though time began on the same day that the world ended. It wasn't always so, of course. Before the Chaotic Age Zero, other great upheavals warranted their own eons – the first Chaotic Century and the age of Flyheit would change the calender forever. Great conquerors and emperors over the planet's human history have also forced time to follow in their footsteps, an act of personal arrogance that can only be attained through force. Despite those would-be titans, the enduring system through Commission and Empire was ZAC, supposedly dating back to the colonization of Zi by humankind – whether that's true or not is a different story. And of course, before Zi had ever known man, the Ancient Zoidians had their own systems of time, now all but lost to the ages.

Of course, each of these aeons – these milestones for the years, were placed at the most important event in Zian history to that date. The Zoidians measured time in way only known to the few (if any remaining) survivors of their rich and mysterious culture, and this metric was obliterated by the arrival of humans. Human time measurement and the ZAC outlasted both Republic and Empire, broad Coalition and full Commission, with each self-important conqueror's system exactly as transient as his rule. ZAC survived the Chaotic Century (though not unscathed), the great Kaiser's Rebellion – three royal dynasties and the entire lifespan of the Helic state. What then, could topple the ZAC from its place in the sun – what event could be so important that it dwarfs the arrival of man on Zi in preeminence? The ZAC was thus vulnerable – it survived the creation of a world government, but not its destruction. The crumbling of the Zoid Battle Commission, by mutual admission of all members of the global population, did more than over two millennia of human history could.

I tell you this for the same reason I tell you the entire story of CAZ. Whether you hail the revolution or mourn the losses, whether you support rebels or the nationals, whether you tend to the living or count the dead, it cannot be denied that we watching one of the single greatest periods in Zian history unfold. And what gives me the right to tell this greatest of tales? Well I... I am a... disinterested party. But no matter your affiliation (or mine), you cannot deny that this was a time for men of action. In other words, a time for heroes – and heroes there were. I resume my story just as, as it so happens, two star-crossed heroes converged on the lush Vedere forests, each bent on the utter destruction of the other. Therefore, it's nothing short of the best of irony that to tell their story. I can't start with either – instead, I have to look to not a hero, but a... king. Of sorts...

* * *

Subchapter 2.1: A Champ in the Making

Guygalos

1/6/-01

Early Morning

Commission Council Chambers, One Day Later

Harry Champ was a man destined to be king, and as a king-to-be, everyone around Harry should know that they were merely his subjects. A king waits for no-one – he was instead waited upon. And yet, it so happened that Harry Champ had been waiting in a empty anteroom for the past hour (without so much as the company of his robotic companions, Benjamin and Sebastian), because someone had summoned the King – the only man Harry Champ really feared: his _father_.

Councilman Barry Champ was the second-most powerful man on Zi, behind only the Commissioner of Zoid Battling himself. Barry Champ was the CEO of the almighty Champ Foundation (the largest corporation on the planet) and chairman of the ZBC Council (the ruling legislative body of the Commission), and the father of Harry and his sister, Mary, only as an after-thought. It puzzled Harry that his father had summoned him at all. Usually when the councilman wanted to talk to Harry he would typically send an envoy, usually in the form of his sister, rather than summoning Harry personally. This change of protocol confused, and even frightened Harry. As the minutes slipped by, Harry had wondered if his resounding defeat and failure at the Royal Cup had obliterated the last of his father's tolerance for Harry's sovereign ambitions – it certainly wouldn't be the first time that the Councilman had expressed distaste for his son's career choice. The last time Barry had tried to put his foot down, he had sent Mary to talk to Harry in person – but (one way or another) Mary had come to see things her brother's way. Councilman Champ, a very literal and no-nonsense type, would not be so easily convinced and if he put his foot down again and in person, it would stay down.

Unfortunately for Harry, he also couldn't concoct a more innocent explanation for his father's summons, because the Councilman and CEO had chosen the legislative chambers as their meeting place, which wasn't exactly the place to make a jovial personal call. After Harry had passed through security (with the ease of status, fortunately) and the honor guard surrounding and permeating the building, he had found no explanation in the hard, marble walls and the ominously cool temperature. All Harry knew was that would meet with his father only one room away from the seat of government of the Zoid Battle Commission itself, and that fact offered little comfort to a wayward son.

Just as Harry finished convincing himself that he had fought his last battle, the door to the anteroom swung open. Harry's jaw dropped – because beside the tall, middle-aged figure of his father was the only greater person in the entire world: Frederick Coulston, the Commissioner of Zoid Battling, the most powerful man on Zi.

Coulston and Champ were still deep in conversation as they emerged from the legislative chambers, but the sight of Harry gave his father a moment's pause.

"Ah, Harry, Harry, Harry! Fred, I believe you know my son..."

"Only by reputation, Barry." Harry sprang to his feet as the Commissioner Coulston advanced with hand outstretched.

"Pleased to meet the lesser Champ at last," continued Coulston as he shook Harry's hand. The Commissioner was, as always, an elderly but intimidating man – heavy set, with his graying hair giving him an air of experience rather than enfeeblement.

Harry was at as loss for words. He stammered out, "Plea—Pleased to meet you at last, Commissioner."

"Yes, Harry. We've crossed paths before, of course, but we've never been formally introduced. Only a matter of time as I see. Harry, do you know why you've been called here?"

"No, Commissioner."

"Well... well, why I don't I let your father explain it."

Councilman Champ cleared his throat. "Harry, you know I've never really approved of your... "career" as a Zoid pilot. Even if the Commission was founded upon the sanctioned battling circuit, I saw it as little more than proletarian bloodsport – Coliseum matches to sate the sanguine thirsts of the masses. I saw participation as quite below you, to be honest Harry."

Harry stared at his father. Was that what this was about? If so, why was his father telling him here? In the presence of the Commissioner of Zoid Battling, who was, after all, in addition to the head of the entire sanctioned Zoid Battling circuit also the Zian head of state! Once again, the usually confident Harry found himself at a loss for words – but he neither hung his head at his father's scolding nor attempted to formulate a rebuke. He simply stared at Barry, who stared back at him, and after a few moments continued his speech.

"But Harry, to be honest, I have had my outlook changed by this past Royal Cup. When you started in the Zoid battling circuit, I never thought you would make it as far as the Royal Cup – especially since you seemed to be pouring funds into your team with little in the way of tangible results to back you up. But, totally against my expectations, I saw you fighting for the ZBC battling crown. And Harry, for that much, I want you to know that I'm proud of you."

Harry kept staring, not even trying to stammer out a reply of thanks to his father. Still, why here? Why now? Why before the ZBC commissioner? (And his father also didn't seem to know that he hadn't been terribly interested in battling at the Cup – but that could be kept a secret.)

"What changed my mind, Harry, were the events that transpired at this past Royal Cup. Heroes were born, my boy. Heroes! Perhaps even future leaders of the ZBC. I'm sure you already know plenty about the Backdraft involvement at the Cup. Never in all my years would I have guessed that those brigands would have tried to gain the public eye by a victory at the Cup, and it was our pilots – pilots like you, Harry, that put the Backdraft to shame. Looking back, the Commissioner also tells me that you've wrangled with them before in the past. And I also understand that you know the winners of the tournament – the Blitz Team and their champion Bit Cloud very well." Harry nodded, still wondering where this was going.

"Bah – I've been dancing around the point. Harry, you've spent some time now developing skills as a warrior, when I expected you to devoting your life to helping the state, like your old man. Now I see that you can do both, just as Bit and the Blitz Team and you did at the Royal Cup. Normally, son, I would just tell you that you've done enough – after all, it was our pilots at the Cup that sent the Backdraft running, tail between their legs. Unfortunately, we've hit on a hitch in the plan. Though we drove the dogs out of Vedere, they've gone to ground and the military is having trouble tracking them down. What's worse, Vega Obscura escaped right out from under our noses – we didn't move fast enough to capture him and his Whale King." Barry and the Commissioner exchanged dark looks. "You can help out there, Harry. The ZBC military is rusty. It's been a long time since they've had any real enemies, other than the Eastern rebels. In a way this whole incident was a blessing in disguise because it showed us how unprepared we really are for a real fight – but that's me meandering again. The military needs experienced pilots in the field, because the Backdraft have Vega Obscura, and he's an elite pilot we can't defeat easily by conventional means. Fortunately, son, you happen to be an experienced pilot, and I think you could do some good for your country."

Harry gaped at his father. "Dad? You want to send me into combat?" He was at a loss for words.

Barry shook his head. "Not combat, exactly, son. Our soldiers will do most of the shooting and legwork. Your role is simple. When they track down Obscura, you'll fight him. Unless you don't think you can beat...?"

The King suddenly found his voice. "If Bit can beat Vega, so can I! But warfare's different from a sanctioned Zoid battle, dad."

"Don't I know it. But you shouldn't worry about interference from the Backdraft "army". That band of rebels can't even march in a straight line. I'm shocked they made it out of Vedere at all, and mark my words, most of them didn't. The only competent pilot among them, as far as we know, is Obscura – though he might be accompanied by a few sympathetic former sanctioned pilots, like yourself. Trust me, they're no more accustomed to warfare than you are. And with the Backdraft behind you, Vega will be a piece of cake. You won't have to fight him alone, either. We already shipped Bit Cloud straight down to Verdis."

Cogs began to churn in Harry's mind. "Bit's there? What about Leen-- I mean, what about the rest of the Blitz Team?"

"Yes, they've all gone as well."

"Then I'll do it!" Harry's thoughts filled with Leena Tauros, the only person on the Blitz Team – quite possibly the only person in the world – he was really interested in seeing. Meanwhile, Harry's father was saying.

"...now you're really seeing things my way, son. And besides, this is a good career move for you, I should say. You can't be a Zoid pilot forever, and if you ever decide to enter into politics, let me tell you, people respect someone with a little bit of military experience. They respect service to the country. Speaking of which... Commissioner?"

Frederick Coulston cleared his throat. "Harry, we've already taken the liberty of loading up your Whale King with some... supplies and so forth. You'll head straight to a military rally point from here and deliver the cargo when you get there... and one more thing. We'd like you to take a passenger. Caex!"

The door to the Council Chambers, from which the Commissioner and Barry had emerged some minutes prior, creaked open. A man garbed in the crisp, formal red and white of a ZBC dress uniform emerged. The darkish crimson and bright white of the uniformed complemented the man's pale complexion, but struck an odd contrast with his hair and jet black eyes, making both look almost unusually dark by comparison. Harry immediately noted two thing about the newcomer: first, he was wearing a pistol as a sidearm, which was unusual in a building where all firearms were checked at the door. Second, his dress uniform was utterly devoid of any decoration or, for that matter, rank ensignia. The man made no motion to introduce himself, but instead stood stiffly with his hands behind his back, almost as though he was standing at a lesser brand of attention.

"Harry," Coulston continued, "this is Special Envoy Caex."The Commissioner did not offer a second half of the name, or indeed, any indication if "Caex" was the man's first or last name. It sounded more like a designation. "He was the reason we had to keep you waiting. Councilman Champ and I just finished granting him his Envoy status when you arrived and there were some formalities to work through. Caex, this is Harry Champ, the Councilman's son."

"Pleased to meet you," said Harry. He extended his hand. Caex stared analytically at the gesture before a moment before offering his own. He had a very powerful handshake. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Champ," Caex said rather cooly. Harry noticed that though Caex was roughly his height and only a medium build, he somehow seemed much, much larger.

"Caex is our personal representative in the Verdis region and he has been fully briefed on the situation. Caex will give you any additional information you need about the mission while you're on your way to the rally point. Unfortunately, your father and I have other matters of state to attend to, so we won't be able to see you off. You should be fine, though. Until you get into the Verdis region, you won't have to worry about the Backdraft or anyone else obstructing your path. Happy hunting, Harry."

* * *

Subchapter 2.2: Welcome to the Front

Skies Above Camp Unity, Southwestern Kerat

1/6/-01

Early Afternoon (Local Time)

Later That Day

Bit Cloud yawned and looked around. He and the Blitz team had now spent nearly a full day on the ZBCS _Karl Schubaltz – _and it certainly was an impressive vessel. The only comparable ships he had ever seen in his life were Harry Champ's massive Whale King and their Backdraft counterparts (Did the Backdraft still have their Whale Kings?), but neither could have hoped to match the _Schubaltz, _a real warship, in a fight. Unfortunately, Bit hadn't been able to see much of the _Schubaltz_ until now because, by order of Doctor Tauros, the Blitz Team had spent most of their time aboard their Hover Cargo, not wanting to get in the way of the military. Bit never had been much good at waiting. He'd decided to skip a lecture from Jamie on the subject of forest warfare and sneak out of the transport and into the Hammer Kaiser's cavernous belly. Bit had wanted to see if the impressive outer facade he had glimpsed yesterday was matched by impressive inner facilities. Unfortunately, there wasn't much here.

The Hover Cargo by far dominated the interior of a dimly lit and, on the whole, rather boring gunmetal gray cargo bay. There were a scattering of other Zoids – a group of Redlers that looked like they weren't in use, and a few soldiers, probably guards, patrolling the deck. Bit squinted, since his eye's hadn't yet adapted to the dimly lit interior, and saw a few men in orange jumpsuits at the end of the hall working on one of the Redlers – probably repairing it or doing regular maintenance. A few more people in similar uniforms were sprinkled around the deck as well – working on Zoids or at small stand-up control panels that Bit didn't recognize, on, in one case, driving a forklift. There didn't seem to be any launch tubes anywhere around the deck, so Zoids couldn't mobilize from inside the bay. How had they gotten in here, anyway? Bit was sure they'd driven in the mouth entrance – but if so, the entrance was closed (as it probably should be while the carrier was in flight) and he couldn't see any sign of an entrance or exit large enough to permit a Zoid to exit, much less a giant Hover Cargo. Bit spared a glance upward and saw a ceiling several dozen meters high, as well as two large cranes or heavy-lifters affixed to the top of the bay. Other than the sporadic and dim lighting, there wasn't much else to see.

As he'd thought, not very interesting. But this ship had to be interesting! It was the size of a large building and could house their entire transport, and had hundreds of people aboard. Who cared about one lousy, boring cargo bay? Bit felt a familiar rush, a friendly crackle on the back of his neck – a certain sparking along his scalp – it was time for an adventure. He could explore the ship at his leisure – until, that is, Doc Tauros found out that he was gone. But until then he was free.

Unfortunately, while years of experience as an amateur and unlicensed junker, plus a brief career as a pilot, had given Bit an unusually good knowledge of a great many Zoids, Bit didn't know much of anything about the interior of a Hammer Kaiser. With only a few exceptions, though, a Zoid's cockpit was near its head, and they were probably towards the lower-back or lower-middle of the Zoid. While he couldn't exactly say which way was forwards, he did know which way was up, and the bridge of the ship was probably on an upper deck. Since he'd gotten on board almost a full day ago, the military hadn't told him anything about what he was doing – in other words, he was lacking a briefing, and he'd like to know what was going on and (just as importantly) when they'd get there.

With that in mind, Bit looked around the bay, spotted a zig-zagging staircase, and climbed a single flight of stairs. When he finished his ascent, he came nearly face to face with a pair of guards – he was standing on a very narrow walkway overlooking the bay, lined by occasional doors. As luck would have it, Bit was standing right in front of such a door, and it was guarded.

At first Bit flinched and almost cringed a bit – as he'd come face-to-face with two large men, each in bright red-and-white commission livery and accompanied by a rather large rifle. However, neither of the guards so much as blinked at his appearance – he might have been invisible. It was then Bit remembered that these soldiers reported to the Colonel Carrihanh, not Dr. Tauros, and that they probably didn't care that he was playing hookey. They also apparently didn't care that he was leaving the bay, because neither moved to stop Bit as he took another step closer to the door and it automatically swung ajar.

With his heart still beating rather faster than usual, Bit stepped across the threshold and into an extremely brightly lit corridor, and again he had to wait for his eyes to adjust. The corridor was bright white and totally empty. Running along one side were several doors, some numbered and all with what seemed to be both key-card and password locks. Bit had neither a key card nor a password, so he decided to move on.

Bit rounded several corners and doors appeared on both sides of the corridors, but there was still a notable absence of even a single other person. Bit passed a ward room, reached a fork, took a right, climbed a flight of stairs again, and found himself at a pair of double doors, which swung to the sides at his approach. Bit stepped across yet another threshold, and the atmosphere instantly changed. He had entered a much busier corridor – filled with orange jumpsuits, black combat uniforms, and bright commission red-and-white. People walked past, some rushing, some sauntering, some chattering, some talking to themselves – a person passed a few people snapped off salutes, but no one seemed to have time to spare a glance for Bit Cloud. Aside from the sudden introduction of people though, this corridor was exactly like the last – stark white with various doors, all card-and-password protected, lining the sides. The corridor was a T-fork for bit – he could left, right, or forward, so he chose forwards. After side-stepping a few more people, Bit walked down a corridor and found another pair of double doors with the words "Mess Hall" over them – which, of course, wasn't what he wanted at all. After stopping to think for a moment, Bit concluded that he was probably in the ship's living quarters or whatever they were called – and that the command deck probably wasn't on the same level as the living quarters...

After a bit more wandering, Bit found another stairwell, and climbed up... what seemed like more than a single flight of stairs. He found a door, but it was locked, so he kept climbing. A second door yielded to his touch, and Bit walked out on to yet another corridor, this time was a few people – but not very many. More importantly, in lieu of unhelpful doors and spotless white walls, the word "Bridge" and an arrow pointed to Bit's left. The best break he'd had yet. Bit followed the arrow, came to a fork, spotted another arrow and made a modest left again. He walked for quite a while but kept going straight at the turn-offs until, at last, he spotted a pair of double doors, this time with the words "_ZBCS Karl Schubaltz_" in dark red on the doors, accompanied by the Commission Naval Crest, a red a white anchor, slit between the doors. Beyond the doors, which were slightly transparent, Bit could make out the shapes of a number of people, screens, and consoles. Beyond the shadow of a doubt, that was the bridge. Bit made for the double doors.

A man, not in the red-and-white of the guards Bit had seen earlier, but wearing the spotted black full combat gear of a Commission marine, appeared from nowhere to block Bit's path – and another marine appeared from the other side to do the same. Both men were large, much larger and heavier than Bit, and were heavily armed – not only with assault rifles slung over their shoulders, but also with pistols, knives, grenades hanging off of their belts, and a half-dozen other items Bit didn't even recognize.

"Halt," said a gruff voice.

"Who goes there?" guessed Bit, who couldn't help cracking a smile despite himself.

"Har, har. I know who you are Mr. Cloud. I can't let you onto the command deck."

"Why not?"

"Civilians are not allowed on to the command deck without proper authorization."

"I'm here to see the Colonel."

"I wasn't notified."

"I didn't know that I had to have an appointment."

The two men exchanged glances, and though Bit had a tough time seeing their expressions past the guards on their helmets, he could guess they were exasperated and that Bit had just said something rather ridiculous.

"You're lucky the Colonel is on the command deck right now, Mr. Cloud. I'll check with him."

The guard tapped the side of his helmet in two different places, apparently activating an internal microphone.

"Colonel. Sergeant Hathaway, sir. Bit Cloud's standing right outside the upper aft bridge entrance, says he wants to see you, sir...? Yes sir. Right away sir."

The Sergeant pressed another contact on his helmet, sighed, and pressed a contact on the side of the door, which promptly swung open. The Sergeant and his compatriot stood aside.

"Go right in."

Bit advanced, and as he passed though the portal, he heard a mutter that sounded suspiciously like, "Civilians..." But then the door swung closed behind bit, and the Sergeant was driven from his mind.

Bit's eyes all but popped. The Command Deck of the _Karl Schubaltz_ was like nothing he had ever seen before. It was a multi-level room, almost like a large, shallow amphitheater, furnished with all manner of consoles and controls that bit didn't recognize. The walls were adorned with what looked like small screens – some were off, but most were showing what Bit assumed to be various information throughout the ship. The sides of the room seemed to have "stand-alone" panels and displays of this nature, while there were chaired "stations" – more than a dozen manned consoles, along the center. In what would have been the stage of a normal theatrical amphitheater were two large tables, each with maps strewn out across them, and a particularly station manned by two crewmen behind the tables. Behind those were several large monitors, with two showing top and side views of the ship itself. Doors ringed the deck – but Bit assumed they didn't all lead into the hallway, but the room seemed unusually well connected nonetheless.

There was no sign of what Bit had envisioned as a "Captain's Chair" or somewhere a commander would sit, but that didn't seem to bother Colonel Carrihanh, as he had already started the brief climb from the base of the room to the entrance Bit was standing at.

"Ah, Mr. Cloud."

Bit snapped out of his look of dazed amazement. "This is quite a set-up you've got here, Colonel."

"Nothing less than the best of the Commission, Mr. Cloud, and nothing less than the best of the best for my ship." Carrihanh puffed out his chest again. "This Hammer Kaiser is one of the most advanced ships in the Commission air fleet. Cutting edge everything – missiles, aircraft, ECM and ECCM, armor, you name it. Our bridge is the our nerve center, so of course we keep in it in tip-top shape – ship shape, as the old expression goes. But enough about us. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I'm sorry to bug you Colonel, since I know you must be busy. It's just that the Blitz Team and I hadn't gotten any word about anything at all. We weren't – eh – briefed or anything, so we've just been going over forest combat. It's just, when are we getting to Vedere and what will we do when we get there?" Bit managed to stifle an awkward laugh. The question seemed ridiculous – that he should have tracked down the ship's captain just to ask him when they were getting there... Bit suddenly felt very juvenile.

"Well, I'm sorry for the lack of communication, Mr. Cloud. I ordered my crew to avoid disturbing you in case you were doing any important training." Bit cracked a sympathetic smile – Dr. Tauros had used reciprocal reasoning. "Regardless, I'm sorry that the journey has taken as long as it has. We had to stop by Mount Iselina early this morning to take on supplies, troops, and fuel also bound for the Verdis region or we would have gotten there earlier. Unfortunately, I can't actually tell you what you'll be doing in Vedere when you get there – I just know that you'll be called in to fight Vega when he's encountered. Also, I'm sorry to say that I can't tell you when we'll get to Verdis, since I, personally, am not taking you there... so I'm sorry if I misled you yesterday when I said I was to escort you to Vedere."

"You're not taking us to Vedere?" asked Bit, more than a little startled. "Then where are we going?"

"I'll show you. Follow me." The Colonel beckoned Bit to follow him down the step-like levels of the command deck. The pair reached the would-be stage of the amphitheater, and Carrihanh pointed to one of the tables, covered with grid-squares, coordinates, and a map.

"We started here, over in Western Delphoi." Carrihanh pointed to a mark on the map indicating the Blitz Team base. "This is our path." With his finger, the Colonel traced a red line on the map, first heading north-east to Mount Iselina, then turning south-east to and ending at an unmarked red dot in Western Kerat, fairly far from the Verdis border. From the scale on the map, it looked like it was hundreds of kilometers away from the city of East Vedere, where the Backdraft had made their headquarters.

"This rally point," Carrihanh tapped the red dot, "is the newly constructed Camp Unity. If you were wondering why we have to drop you off there... well, that's open to interpretation. Officially, it's because it's the closest military airstrip to the front secure and large enough to service a Hammer Kaiser. Unofficially, and I mean off the record and just between you and me, Bit, I've heard tell that it's because the brass think that the Backdraft have crossed over into the Kerat territory, and Camp Unity is the only military base in Kerat, except Homeland which is way to the south.

Now, I could be wrong, because the Backdraft were in Verdere yesterday, and how they could have crossed the three hundred odd clicks to the Kerat border in a day is anyone's guess. Maybe the brass just thinks that they will cross the border but haven't yet. But if they wanted to put us close to East Vedere, both Lake Righteous and Miner's Peak are closer, and I don't buy that their commercial aviation strips won't land a Hammer Kaiser, since we're VTOL and can land on any flat surface. Besides, we only started construction on Camp Unity about a week ago after the World Cup, and their landing strip can't be much more than a clearing in some trees yet – paved, if we're lucky.

I also don't really think that we're in danger of getting hit by a charged particle gun while we land, because that could happen to any convoy we try to mount, and it would be a big risk for the Backdraft. No, I think the Backdraft have left Vedere. But orders are orders, and I'll take you to Camp Unity one way or the other."

"Hm..." Vega, leaving behind his home? Bit didn't know about that, be he didn't know much about Vega Obscura. He guessed no one did. "So, Colonel, if we're going to this Camp Unity, when will we get there?"

To Bit's relief, the Colonel gave a hearty chuckle at Bit's question. That man didn't seem much like a military officer at all, at the moment. "Fortuitous that you walked in exactly when you did... we're practically there! We're a few klicks off of Fort Unity, and I was about to contact the "tower" (if they have one). Here, take a look." The Colonel pushed a contact on the base of one of the monitors, and three monitors instantly changed to an external view of the landscape around the Hammer Kaiser. The Colonel pushed another contact and the view of one of the monitors changed – he pushed it twice more until he seemed satisfied with the picture.

A sweeping landscape of trees and hills, vibrant natural greens and vivid earthen brown – a positively picturesque panorama -- filled the screen. Bit couldn't see any man-made structure.

"Your first time in Kerat, Mr. Cloud? It certainly is pretty. But regardless... you can see Camp Un--, oh, wait a moment." A Redler had swooped across the camera. It lingered for a moment, blocking a small portion of the picture, before drifting slightly to the side and out of view. "Just our air patrol... now, take a look there."

Squinting, Bit could make out a tall, whitish-gray building against the green background that couldn't be natural... probably that would-be "tower" that the Colonel had mentioned earlier.

"I can hardly see it!"

The Colonel laughed again. "It seems distant now, but we'll be there in mere minutes. We should be landing soon, so you might want to get to your Hover Cargo. I doubt that they'll have anything on their runway, since we've got their base complement of Redlers aboard – there's not much wind today... and not a cloud in the sky."

"Well, one cloud, Colonel, other than me, I mean." Bit pointed to a speck of black on the left monitor. "But I doubt that will interfere with your landing."

"Hm...?" The Colonel looked at the tiny smidgeon Bit was pointing to. To Bit's surprise, he frowned. Carrihanh tapped a control on the screen and optical zoom figures strafed the screen. The Colonel nudged something else and the black dot became bigger. He tapped it again and it became yet bigger. Again... and it split. Not one, but several tightly clustered black dots were now visible. The Colonel's eyes narrowed.

"RADAR!"

A poor soul behind the Colonel practically jumped out of his seat. "Yes, sir?"

"Any contacts?"

"Sir, no, sir. Skies should be completely clear of hostiles for over 500 klicks in every direction, sir. There's a commercial airliner to our east at-"

"Spare me. Navigation, confirm altitude."

"Altitude at 245 meters, slowing descending to 200 as we approach the waypoint, sir."

"They're level with us... above us if anything. They should be showing up on radar. TACTICAL – caps off the port-side batteries."

"Sir?" The man who responded, who Bit assumed was the tactical officer, looked somewhat confused.

"Arm the port missile batteries!"

"Sir, yes, sir." Bit saw the officer grab something that looked like a corded telephone off of the tactical console, flipped several switches, and began talking in low rapid tones. Bit caught two repeats of the orders to arm the batteries. He felt his adrenaline spike.

Carrihanh walked over to a vacant, lower console, flipped a switch, grabbed another phone. "This is the Colonel. All hands to battle stations. General quarters. Repeat. General Quarters. All hands to battle stations. XO and all senior staff report to the bridge immediately." The Colonel put down the phone and began shouting once again, "Communications, advise Camp Unity that the they have unidentified and possible unfriendlies in their northwestern airspace. Order the air patrol move to the port side of the ship, and target unidentified aircraft about … 75 kilometers to our port side, on the level. Also issue a hostile challenge in the clear."

Almost instantly, officers and stations around the deck began yelling back to their Colonel – Bit was amazed that Carrihanh could make out anything from the buzz, but it seemed to make sense to him. Bit could barely hear the comm officer yelling, "Unidentified aircraft, identify yourselves or you will be fired upon." After several of these, the officer reported, "No response."

Carrihanh made a decision. "Order the air patrol to break and attack! Port batteries can fire at will."

After a minute pause, someone yelled back something unintelligible followed by, "Port Gunnery Sergeant reports no contacts to engage."

Bit turned back to the monitor, on which the enemy aircraft had grown to the size of bowling balls, with wings and features of the aircraft now visible. There were only four. Bit thought they looked like Storm Sworders, but instead of the sleek silver he was used to, they were a menacing jet black.

Carrihanh lept to the screen and starting muttering angrily to himself, looking up for just a moment and sparing the aircraft a moment's contemplation. Then, he went back to his work and redoubled his quiet swearing. After a few seconds, the camera zoomed out and display information flashed across the screen. "Tell the batteries to view port deck camera 4 and to use their damned eyes. Tactical, switch port batteries to manual firing."

Several affirmative responses greeted Carrihanh. After a few moments, Bit saw something lurch – panels on the side of the Hammer Kaiser were opening and several missiles blossomed out. The air patrol scattered to the sides of the salvo and broke towards the aircraft. Instantly, the black attackers scattered, and several dots of red-orange appeared from around their forms.

A piercing wail, almost too loud to bear, overwhelmed the clamor on the bridge. The tactical officer slammed a button on his console and the sound instantly stopped. "RADAR CONTACT!" yelled the tactical officer. "Missiles inbound. Estimated sixty seconds to impact." He hit another button. "Phalanx chaingun and AM batteries are firing automatically." Flashes of yellow bullets and several small rockets lit the sky. Suddenly, the yellow-orange blurs that were the enemy missiles multiplied – where once dozens had been there now were hundreds. "Enemy has deployed flares, possibly, chaff, and ECM against our defenses. Countering with ECCM and IR redux." The officer flipped a switch. "ECCM ineffective."

Bit noticed that the bridge had temporarily fallen mostly silent for the tactical officers pronouncements, but now someone else spoke up. "Redler Lead is reporting that the enemy is withdrawing at speed... estimated in excess of Mach 3 and above the top speed of patrol."

Carrihanh swore. "Redlers redeploy and try to defend the ship. Flank speed. Let's see if those missiles can target us through their own chaff. Port missile batteries close armor plates – all other batteries redirect to point defense, close spread." The Colonel then picked up the phone-like object again and hit a switch. "All hands, brace for impact!"

Bit and the Colonel both grabbed a hand-bar to the side of the monitor, and not a moment too soon. Bit heard and felt an all-mighty crash that rocked the ship in the air, throwing Bit off his balance and nearly yanking him from the bar – the port camera shook wildly, but Bit could see plumes of red and yellow. The port engine seemed to be on fire – the camera blinked off and then on again and Bit could see debris flying off the ship.

"Shut the port engine down! Shut it down or we'll lose the ship! Damage control teams to port engine! Get me a damage report. Air patrol, break and pursue those Storm Sworders. Inform Unity airstrip that we are about to make an emergency landing - and someone get me Camp Unity actual!"

With that, the Colonel turned and looked at Bit.

"Mr. Cloud, Welcome to the Front!"

* * *

Subchapter 2.3: Convergence

Skies Above Camp Unity, Southwestern Kerat

1/6/-01

Late Afternoon (Local Time)

Yet Later That Day

Harry Champ had never, in his entire life, had such an easy time getting off of the Guygalos commercial airstrip. Guygalos was a big city, the formal capital of the Zenebas and Guylos Empires and the seat of government of the Zoid Battle Commission. It was a massive city and its airports serviced hundreds of thousands, and it went without saying that they were always very busy. Harry had the advantage, though as the son of the powerful Barry Champ, he was always given landing priority and access to the Champ corporate airstrips – and, if he was lucky, private and government airstrips as well. It had been such this morning, when he had landed in a secluded, government-priority strip just off the main terminals at GIX (Guygalos Intercontinental Airport), on the outskirts of the city proper. Harry had landed quickly and without incident, and he had faced a deserted port. When he had returned some hours later, the airstrip was crawling with military personnel and cargo loaders of various kinds. Upon reaching the cockpit, the tower actually called him – something Harry had never, in his entire life, experienced, asking if he was ready to launch. Special Envoy Caex, the only other actual _bona fide_ human being on the Whale King had crisply informed Harry that the flight had been given priority before disappearing from the bridge – which was well enough, because he unsettled Harry. The Whale King lifted off the tarmac and set a course for the rally point coordinates that Caex had courteously dialed in before marching off the bridge. Even at top speed of Harry's modified Whale King, the voyage would take the better part of a day.

With Benjamin and Sebastian taking the conn, Harry took a brief visit to the cargo bay to inspect his Zoids – if there was, in fact a fight ahead of him, he needed to be in tip-top condition. Especially if was to defeat Bit or Vega and (hopefully!) win Leena's love and admiration. Harry had initially lost a great many Zoids to the Backdraft, but his ranks had been recently replenished. After the defeat of the Backdraft, his stolen custom Dark Horn had been returned to him (apparently another gift of his father's) – and of course, he also had a trio of Iron Kong Mk. II Limited specials, which he had favored in more recent battles. He had several Cannon Tortoises, a Gojulas (complete with massive Super Cannons)... the list went on. Just about the only Zoids he didn't have were the Liger Zero and the Berserk Fury, but apparently those two could defeat any of the Zoids he had in this room. He tried to think of a strategy for fighting one or both – ironically his thoughts meandered to Bit more than Vega, but Harry ended up with nothing more than a throbbing headache. After that, Harry went over his Dark Horn and Iron Kong to ensure the repair crews had done their jobs properly (they had, of course, but Harry looked anyway). After the check of his Zoids, Harry moved further aft and found his previously empty cargo space now packed to the brim with boxes – a sea of olive green mingled with shipping crate brown and Commission red, apparently supplies for the front. As some of them were apparently munitions, Harry didn't loiter around them too long. With nothing else to do, he headed back to the bridge. Oddly, there was no sign of Caex in either bay or in any passage. Where had he gotten off too? The crew quarters? But he didn't have a room...

Benjamin and Sebastian were waiting for Harry's return as only robots could. Harry slipped into a chair and checked the time – hours had passed while he had been aft. After waiting a few minutes, both Benjamin and Sebastian began to ask Harry about the mission... but Harry didn't know any more than they did.

"...Well, I don't mean to criticize your father, Harry, but I think it's a bit irresponsible, sending us into a war zone." Benjamin's voice creaked out in a flat, mechanical tone, as if it had been run through a synth and run over by a steam roller.

"I agree. Sending civilians – not to mention, you his son – to do the military's job?" Sebastian was far from identical, but his creaky intonations were much the same.

"We'll only be fighting Vega, guys, most of the Backdraft will be taken care of by the army. There's nothing to worry about." Harry's words sounded braver than he felt.

"Quite right." Harry jumped. The words had come from behind him. Caex had re-entered the bridge.

"I'm amazed to see that your robots as sophisticated enough to express concerns about this operation – though self preservation is a very basic instinct." Caex paused. "As Commissioner Coulston said, I've been fully briefed on the situation. I apologize for not filling you in as well, Mr. Champ, but your role will be largely dictated by the mission commander on the ground. I can assure you, though, that your jobs are simple. You will only be deployed once Vega has been spotted. I will let the mission commander give you your... specific instructions." Caex's tone was matter-of-fact and cool, but somehow in no way reassuring.

"Now, I came up to the bridge because by my estimate, we should nearly have reached the rally point."

Harry checked an instrument. "You're right. We're only a few minutes out of this rally point of yours."

"Excellent. Now, here's your briefing of the situation. This rally point has been designated Camp Unity, which is currently home to the Commission forces committed to containing the Backdraft insurrection. The exact troop compositions of the Camp and regional force deployment is need-to-know information. What you do need to know is that the facility has an airstrip large enough to land a Whale King – this Whale King for instance. We should be arriving more or less concurrently with a Hammer Kaiser carrying Bit Cloud and the Blitz Team, even though they're slightly behind schedule. Upon landing, you'll meet with the commanding general of Camp Unity, and he will brief you further. The supplies in your hold should be offloaded automatically.

That being said, I also have some special instructions to see to your security, as you are a Councilman's son and the Commissioner has taken great interest in you, Mr. Champ. You will be under unusually heavy guard while here, Mr. Champ – the details of which I'll spare you, but suffice it to say that we have gone to great lengths to protect you and it would be unfortunate if you did anything rash or foolish to endanger yourself. You don't have a military identification and the protocol on dealing with... unprocessed civilians is a bit unclear, so if I were you, I would refrain from leaving the Camp.

Lastly, you already know that I am the special representative of the military leaders of the Zoid Battle Commission – your father and the Commissioner. As such, please note that I'm not here to fight but instead to observe. As this is a very serious situation, Mr. Champ, your father is very interested in ensuring that everything goes smoothly and my other function is to make sure it does. If you notice anything unusual or inefficient – what one might term "military bungling" don't hesitate to report it directly to me... you should be able to contact me from your quarters. Please don't bother me with minor concerns, of course, I'm not a valet." Harry nodded his acknowledgment, but once again, something about the envoy unsettled him. Maybe it was the term itself "envoy"... he seemed like a spy more than a soldier.

"Envoy Caex!" Benjamin suddenly intoned. "Camp Unity just came into view. And look sir!" Caex and Harry turned and stared at the view screen. Though the base was small, the ominous blackish whisps emanating from the site were not. It seemed that Camp Unity was on fire.

"Arm your Triple Cannon and AA batteries." Caex's words were not a request – it was an order. "NOW!"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Caex, sir," replied Benjamin, his mechanical hands flying over the Whale King's controls. "Weapons armed. But Caex --"

"Hope you don't need them. But I need to contact Unity to-"

"Getting a radio message sir." Sebastian flipped a switch and an unfamiliar voice came over the Whale King's speakers.

"... identify yourself or you will be fired upon. I repeat, this is restricted airspace. You are ordered to halt your vessel and identify yourself or you will be fired upon..."

"It seems they've contacted us first," muttered Caex. "So much for radio silence." The officer picked up a headset from one of the many unoccupied bridge stations, flipped a switch, and responded to the challenge.

"Attention Camp Unity. This is Special Envoy Caex, duly appointed representative of the Council and the Commissioner. This Whale King is the property of the Champ family, and is transporting critical arms and supplies to Camp, as well as Councilman Champ's son. Our arrival is scheduled. Do not fire upon us. I am transmitting our military identification and verification codes." The envoy's hands flew across the keyboard with positively blinding speed. He also muttered a few things into the microphone that Harry couldn't hear – but apparently the rapport was a successful one.

After a moment's pause, the same voice crackled over their speakers, but no longer authoritative and challenging – if anything the next few words sounded almost deferent. "Received, acknowledged, and verified, Special Envoy. You are cleared to land at this time." Landing information transmitted from Unity began to flash across the screen, giving them the name and heading of the runway they were to land on, as well as other comparatively minor notes. "Be advised that Runway 04 has been obstructed by a damaged Hammer Kaiser and fire control teams have yet to suppress a blaze in her port engine. The smoke may affect visibility during your landing. Be further advised that unidentified enemy aircraft have been spotted in this airspace recently – a full report will be made available to you upon your landing, Envoy Caex."

"Understood, Unity. Unity, I would like to meet the base's CO as soon as possible after we land."

There was about fifteen seconds of silence, following by something too garbled and faint to be heard.

"Say again, Unity?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but the Major General is in a meeting right now."

"A meeting?" Caex's question was more of rhetorical incredulity than curiosity, but it seemed whoever was manning the Camp Unity radio felt compelled to provide an answer nonetheless.

"That's correct, sir. I cannot provide further details over radio, sir."

Caex shook his head. "Very well. If possible have someone meet us on the runway and take me to this 'meeting'."

"Aye, sir. That can be arranged."

Caex practically threw his headset off as he muted the radio. "In a meeting? I hope he's in the meeting with the Captain of that Hammer Kaiser... that's the _Karl Schubaltz_, no doubt."

Harry found his voice next. " Was that the ship carrying the Blitz Team? I thought you said this rally point was safe!" Was Leena alright? She could be hurt... or worse? And the rest of the Blitz Team – had Bit been injured?

"It's _supposed_ to be safe, Mr. Champ. I can assure you that your father would not have deliberately put you in harm's way, and neither would I. Either we have vastly underestimated the air power of the Backdraft or I have vastly overestimated the competence of the good Major General... regardless. Mr. Champ, I would ask you to accompany me to the aft cargo bay... there are some things we will need to pick up. I imagine your robots can land the transport adequately enough – I would recommend, by the way, that they remain on board, at least at first." Caex turned to leave. Harry lept to follow him.

"Why?"

"Why are we going to the aft bay or why should your robots remain aboard?"

"Both."

"In the former case, I have something to give you. In the latter case, partially because this Whale King may need to take off at a moment's notice and partially because your robots rather fall outside the realm of military protocol. We have sleepers, of course, but most of our AI systems are imbedded in the Zoids themselves or are else much more primitive than your Benjamin and Sebastian, from what I've seen... I think our ground troops are having enough trouble adapting to this injection of civilian pilots without complicating things by adding robots... doubt they'd even know how to give them a weapons check. Anyway..."

Harry had hardly noticed that he'd followed Caex onto a service track and lift, which had taken them to the aft cargo bay. Normally such a procedure would be ten minutes at least (Whale Kings were hundreds of meters long, after all), but Harry's was nothing short of state of the art. While the transportation might have been special, the cargo bay certainly wasn't – it was filled with mountains of different colors of boxes, just as it had been when Harry had inspected it not half an hour ago. Caex, however, apparently found meaning in the boxes. He walked to nearby one, opened it, and drew out a belt, and tossed it to Harry. After a second's stumbling, Harry caught the belt in midair and inspected it. It appeared to be a regular belt except for one large pouch on the side, which was buttoned closed, bulging at the top, and ominously had a three tightly clustered black cylinders protruding from the bottom.

"Um... what's this?"

"In in base terms, Mr. Champ, it is a gun."

Harry nearly dropped the belt. "A... a gun? For me?"

"Yes. A Champ PWD-44 "Tri-Barrel", manufactured by your father's company and phasing in as the new ZBC standard issue sidearm. It's not loaded – in fact, it does not have a clip. That switch on the side you see – when it is in the up position the safety is on, when it is down the weapon can fire – and the bolt next to it regulates the mode of the pistol. This is not a magazine-loaded weapon, it uses barrel induction." Caex opened another crate and pulled out something that Harry had never seen before – it looked like a three-pronged rack with each prong carrying a small barrel slightly smaller than those currently on the pistol. "This is a speed loader. Take one. Each of the barrels here contains a bullet. Ram this down the muzzles and quickly withdraw it to load the weapon."

"Am I expected to... to...?"

"To fight? I hope not. You're not my charge, but I imagine the Council and your father would take it badly if you were killed in an easily preventable accident, so it's only a prudent measure to arm you. On the other hand, don't fool with that or you'll quickly become more of a danger to yourself than any enemy. But you should have some kind of weapon nonetheless – there are no kid gloves on out here. Zoid warrior or no, son of the Commissioner or no, the Backdraft are shooting to kill and they won't hesitate to attack a pilot. So keep that on your person. Someone would give you further instruction if you were actually expected to use it, but luckily for you, you aren't."

As Harry was about to stutter out a response, an abrupt bump lightly shook the entire bay... followed by two more similar jarring collisions. Suddenly, a horrendous screeching broke through the bay and Harry experienced the inexplicable sensation of being thrown very forcibly backwards. They had landed.

"Ah..." said Caex after the Whale King grumbled to a stop. "We've arrived."

Before Harry knew it, he and Caex were standing on the tarmac (unfortunately without Benjamin and Sebastian, as the envoy had recommended). Two men were slowly approaching the pair, though the advancing figures seemed to be arguing.

"...I demand some answers, Yates. My ship has been attacked and my crew has been threatened. I demand some answers." The first man was tall, standing in a crisp military uniform but seemed extremely displeased.

"With respect sir, I have another duty to attend to as this time." The second man was a tad shorter than the first, dark haired and dark-eyed with a harassed look about him. It was he who stepped forward first and offered his hand.

Caex shook the offered hand. "I'm Special Envoy Caex, and this is Harry Champ, the Councilman's son, who generously offered us use of his Whale King and assistance in our mission."

"Sirs. I am Lieutenant Colonel Zachary Yates. And may I be permitted to introduce our colleague from the air fleet, Colonel Micheal Carrihanh?" Zachary gestured to the man to his right. "As you're no doubt aware, we had a situation just a few minutes ago."

"That's exactly what I --"

"Which is precisely what Colonel Carrihanh was asking about, as it was his ship that was attacked."

"Now, look here Yates. The Backdraft are operating Storm Sworders, which means they have a working airstrip somewhere, and I refuse to believe that they could operate such an airstrip without the knowledge of the Commission. In withholding that information, you have my ship and hundreds of lives – including the critical cargo and personnel I was transporting – at risk. Now, I demand some answers."

"With respect, Colonel, I am sure you are right, but I have no more information than you. Only Major General Shays will know if you're correct."

"Then, where is General Shays?" asked Carrihanh in a particularly exasperated manner.

"I was just getting to that."

"I was told he was in a meeting," said Caex abruptly. "Of course, I can speak to the ranking watch officer if need be, but I would rather speak to the General directly."

"Special Envoy, you may of course do either, but I was hoping you could help us in the matter of the general. He is... in a meeting, for lack of a better word. Here. I'll explain on the way – and Colonel, you are welcome to come as well."

A five-seater jeep had just driven up, and Yates courteously opened the back door and offered it to the three other men, who squeezed into the back. Yates himself took shotgun. "South Gate." The driver saluted nodded and the jeep sped off.

"About an hour ago, before the attack, we were approached by thirteen Zoids from the south. All Ligers. Totally unidentified. They weren't Commission Zoids, but they weren't Backdraft either. A moment later, we got a message saying that the leader of the group wanted to speak to the base's commander, so Major General Shays went out immediately to meet them – over the objections of his senior staff, might I add, but they met on neutral ground. None of us knew exactly who they were, though. If they weren't Backdraft and they weren't Commission, who could they be?"

"Local militia? Or some kind of paramilitary or police force?" guessed Carrihanh.

"No." Caex shook his head. "I take it that were going to the South Gate because the General is still there, and he wouldn't have had to speak to them for an hour if they were just a militia."

"Reasonable, sir. The south guard posts have been watching them the whole time, by the way, so we know that the general is fine, but the General and the leader of the group appear to be arguing. We just have no idea who he's arguing with."

"I don't suppose that sending someone out to check would have been an obvious option."

"We would have, sir, but the General ordered us to let him go alone and the attack on the _Karl Schubaltz_ obviously gave us higher priorities. That's the other thing, sir, General Shays must have known what was happening during the attack on your ship, Colonel, it was very visible... but he decided to stay and argue with whoever this was. When we sent out a guard to take him back to the command bunker on the grounds it was no longer safe to be out in the open, he sent them back. Something important must be going on."

"Hm... but who would be that important? Champ Corporate Security?"

"No way," responded Harry. "We don't operate Ligers. Besides no one would be crazy enough to put Ligers in the middle of the forest anyway, they're no good in combat here."

"Zi-Arms or ZOITEC then?"

"Neither of them have any facilities in Southern Kerat. At least, none I know of."

"And Envoy, we didn't get any kind of corporate registration code from any of the Zoids."

"Then they're probably mercenaries.... but I don't see why they would be so important that the General would stay and continue to... apparently argue with them through an entire attack."

"Maybe, Envoy," replied Yates. "We thought that it might be some kind of... Commission intelligence unit that none of us knew about and had to report to the General specifically."

"Commission military intelligence operating Ligers and reporting by parking them right in front of the base? That's a bit far-fetched, and I certainly would have heard about it."

"We'll find out in a minute. We're almost there."

Harry could see the Southern Gate grow closer and closer – a gap in the incomplete concrete perimeter of the base, flanked by guard towers. The jeep screeched to a halt practically inside the entrance. Just about a hundred meters beyond it, Harry could see thirteen large, blue and silver Ligers – three Blade Ligers and the rest Shield Ligers – in a neat line facing the gate. One of the Ligers had broken the line and taken several steps forward – and at its feet, Harry could make out two men, one of whom even from this distance was visibly gesturing angrily. Harry, Caex, Yates, and Carrihanh got out of the jeep. The driver saluted crisply and moved to a more suitable location but stayed put – presumably for the return trip.

The four men advanced towards the Major General and the unknown figure, and the General's voice became audible, albeit mostly incomprehensible, a combination of anger and apparent hoarseness. His opposite number's words would probably have been more understandable, but they were of lesser volume.

Caex broke from the other three men and stepped briskly forward. Even surrounded by high-ranking officers, he seemed to have the authority of command. Nonetheless, the Major General noticed his approach at about a dozen meters, and soon the shouting was redirected.

"I though I told the base not to send anyone else – I'll deal with this. And who the hell are you, soldier? You stand at attention when you're being addressed by a senior officer!"

Caex did not salute the General. Instead Caex stared at him... perhaps calculatingly. After a few seconds, a vein began to throb in Shay's temple. After a few seconds longer, Caex gave his reply.

"Major General Terrance Shays, I am Special Envoy Caex. I arrived from Guygalos just a few minutes ago. Upon my arrival, you senior staff suggested to me that you might have some – ah – trouble."

"And I suppose Special Envoys don't salute Generals, do they?"

"No, sir. I salute only Commissioner and Council."

Shays made a guttural sound. "Humph. As long as I don't have to salute you, I suppose. And, since you bring it up... this is the source of my trouble." Shays gestured at the man standing across from him. Harry, who had just caught up to Caex, gazed at the General's opposite number for the first time.

The man was tall and dark haired and held himself with great authority (enhanced by the column of Ligers only a hundred meters at his back), in some ways not unlike Caex himself. However, the unknown man was perhaps slightly taller and certainly much older than than Caex, with an almost chiseled face and hair flecked with gray. Also, the stranger was wearing an equally strange blue-and-gold uniform that Harry did not recognize. The blue costume was further detailed with silver, and though they were not any rank insignia or military marking that Harry recognized, he was sure they had meaning. One thing was for sure, though – this was no mercenary.

Caex gave the newcomer a cursory glance – apparently the uniform and mysterious markings had more meaning to him than it did to Harry.

"And how, General, has this man caused you trouble?"

"With no introduction, warning, or prior authorization, this man has demanded unconditional access to my base and our confidential files and records. Access for him and his Ligers – armed. He is neither a Commission soldier nor a member of the Commission government. Nothing gives him that right."

"Indeed." Caex turned to the stranger. "And what exactly is that gives you that right?"

"This." The single word was a deep baritone. The man drew a small object that Harry could not resolve out of his pocket. He held it up and allowed it to fall – no, to dangle from a thin chain. The object glinted gold in the light.

Caex advanced a single step and offered an outstretched hand beneath the object. The stranger allowed the trinket to drop into the envoy's grasp. Caex held it up to examine it more closely.

"A gold disc, embossed with Zi crossed by a lighting bolt... the seal of the old Helic Republic." Caex then turned the disc over and examined the other side.

"And the red Imperial serpent wrapped around a sword, the symbol of the Guylos Empire... and around the edge the words, 'Peace and Prosperity For the People Of Planet Zi.'" Caex nodded, and though his face betrayed no epiphany, his realization was apparent to everyone.

"You are then, a Guardian Force Fighter." Harry felt his jaw drop. A Guardian?

"Correct, Special Envoy. I am Guardian Captain Richard Hale, and this complement is under my command."

Caex examined the small token closely once more before handing it back to the Guardian. "Your multinational authority still does not give you the right to violate a Commission military base... and I would also point out that I cannot accept this as identification, Captain Hale."

"Somehow, I didn't think you would." Hale drew out a small card with his picture on it and handed it to Caex. Caex accepted small square and scrutinized it, much as he had the golden disk. He raised his eyebrows.

"You're not only a Guardian Captain, you're a Special Investigator for the ZIC's Office of the Chief Prosecutor."

"And a duly appointed Coalition marshal."

"Unfortunately, Captain Hale, neither your position in the Order of Flyheit nor your marshal status allow you to invade Commission bases at your leisure." Caex handed back the identification card.

"Quite right, Special Envoy. But I have something for that last problem as well." With that, the Special Envoy drew out a piece of paper, which handed to Caex.

"And this is search warrant."

"Yes, sir. Duly signed by the Chief Prosecutor and an appropriate tribunal judge."

"A war crimes tribunal judge. You're investigating war crimes?"

"Absolutely."

At that, Major General Shays scoffed. "War crimes? Ridiculous. Most of the soldiers in this base haven't even seen action yet."

Caex looked at the General, and then at Captain Hale.

"The General has a point, Captain."

"And he's been yelling his 'point' at me for the better part of an hour, Special Envoy. I'm not even here to investigate the Commission, Mr. Caex. I'm here to investigate the Backdraft. We have reports of the use of charged particle weapons. As I'm sure you gentlemen know that the use of charged particle weapons is banned under the Guygalos accords. I want access to all of your records relevant to the Backdraft and I want to be on site to monitor developments as they occur – as I understand it, this is to be the nerve center of the Commission action against the Backdraft rebels."

"And would hence be the perfect place to hear about any additional Backdraft war crimes."

"I wish charged particle guns were all we had to worry about..." This time it was Carrihanh who spoke up, with at least a little residual bitterness in his voice. All five people stared at him.

"You must be Colonel Carrihanh, ZBC airforce," said the Major General. "Where's Brigadier General Jartley? I heard there were two Hammer Kaisers coming but I only saw one land... mind you, I was paying attention to other things..."

"The Brigadier General Jartley isn't here sir, and to my knowledge, isn't coming, sir. If he's coming here, I wasn't informed."

The Major General hrumphed again. "So much for interdepartmental cooperation. And while I'll admit that I wouldn't have expected the Backdraft to be operating aircraft this far out, since you're the ranking airforce officer here, I'd suggest that air defense is your problem."

Carrihanh gave the Major General an extremely cool look. "I would in turn suggest that is very much your problem, General. We'll discuss it more later. It seems we have more... pressing matters to attend to."

"Glad to see you have your priorities straight," said Captain Hale. "Now, as I've already told the good General, I have the full and proper authority to search this base top to bottom if I so desire, and I intend to do exactly that regardless of whether you cooperate or not. If you refuse to cooperate, however, I am left with the unpleasant task of forcing my way in."

Shays spoke again. "Ridiculous – beyond absurd. Clearly the privileges of the Guardian Force have gone to your head." Caex raised an eyebrow.

"General, I have thirteen Zoids at my back."

"And if necessary, Guardian, I can have a hundred Zoids here to stop you."

"Perhaps. I do not dispute that. But I have no doubt that you would far prefer your resources to be used against the Backdraft rather than waste them against myself and my men. Speaking strictly as their commander, I think it is fair to warn you that the attempt would be futile regardless."

General Shays turned to the Special Envoy. "Now you understand exactly what I have been doing for the last hour. This man offers scant authority on one hand and blatant threats on the other."

Hale inclined his head. "And you, my good General, have offered me little hospitality on the one hand and prodigious volume on the other, but I am no less inclined to attempt cooperation before violence." Shays gave Hale a particularly fierce glare before turning back to Caex.

"I think you will agree with me, Mr. Caex, that as the commanding officer of this base I am within my rights to deny this man access to Camp Unity in the absence of higher orders. And I would deem his so-called 'authority' to search these premises dubious at best, and I refuse to recognize it without a ruling from either the Office of the Inspector General or the Judge Advocate General, whichever has jurisdiction in this case."

"Yes, General, I would agree that you are within your rights, and I also have a feeling that you have been impressing that upon our guest quite forcefully ever since he explained his purpose to you about an hour ago. But as Captain Hale is still here, I deduce that he is unwilling to take 'no' for answer." Captain Hale bowed his head. Caex turned back to the General.

"It's interesting that you should bring up the Inspector General, because while I do not report to that office I am acting as the eyes and ears of the top brass, and as such... suffice it to say I am familiar with the procedures of said office and I am effectively acting in the capacity of an Inspector General myself. Whatever your objections, General Shays, I rule that Guardian Captain is, by treaty, within his rights to conduct his investigation within this base. Guardian Captain, because you are a Coalition marshal, I shall allow you and your staff to keep your personal weapons, but your armor will not be admitted to this base. You will be allowed to conduct your investigation at leisure as long as you do not interfere with base operations. Does that sound equitable to you, gentlemen?"

The grizzled guardian bowed his head. "It is equitable, Special Envoy. I thank you."

Shays spoke up, "Acting in the capacity as a representative of the Office of the Inspector General? What the hell does that mean. I object. I more than object."

Caex turned on his heel to face the General once more. "General, your base is at no risk if these men do not bring their armor within its walls. Were they assassins or saboteurs, they could easily have simply attacked the base itself and probably razed much of it – or if they were assassins, most targets of value within the base are standing directly before them. They are Guardians and they certainly have right and privilege to investigate war crimes – and they are investigating the crimes of the Backdraft, not us! They are, in effect, the enemy of our enemy. Furthermore, I happen to familiar with the treaties between the ZIC and the ZBC, and if you wish to avoid an incident, General, then I must advise you that these men are fully within their rights. Now, you are right in thinking that this is your base, not mine, General, and you can order your men to bar access to this facility if you wish. However, such a barring would be illegal and probably come at a cost in lives, both Commission and Coalition, when we have met here in union against the Backdraft. If you wish to protest further, you may appeal to Guygalos, but I can assure you that I can have the Commissioner in direct contact with this base in inside five minutes, and I rather think that he will agree with me. Guardians are powerful friends and dangerous enemies. Now, if you've finished with this foolishness, we have real enemies attacking this base while we squabble among friends."

Hale inclined his head to Caex once again. Shays did not look pleased. "Very well... I suppose you have the right, but be aware that I will appeal the legality of your alleged decision. In the mean time... Colonel Yates!" Yates was at the General's side almost instantly. "Get in touch with Armistice Isle however you can and verify the identities of all men in this company as well as the validity of that warrant. Hale, you may have access to this base as soon as I'm sure you are who you say you are." Hale nodded and handed his identification card and warrant papers to the advancing Colonel Yates.

"Excellent.... General, since I am in fact Captain Richard Hale and since this is a valid warrant, I will be with you in some time... As long as you're cooperating with my investigation, please do me one small favor and arrange an interview with Mr. Bit Cloud and the Blitz Team. It is my understanding that they are here and I would be most interested in speaking with them."

It was not clear that General Shays even heard what Hale had said. He grunted and turned away, walking back to the base, muttering, "Special Investigators, Special Envoys... all a tad special if you ask me... Carrihanh! What the hell was this attack all about, do you have my Redlers, how long will your ship be taking up our airstrip, and where the hell is the Blitz Team?"

"One question at a time, General. First thing's first, those weren't just regular Storm Sworders that attacked us... but I think I know exactly what they were... and if I'm right, even if we don't know where they're launching from, we still might have a way to stop them if I can get in contact with the right man."

As General and Colonel walked off, Caex started to follow after them and muttered to no one in particular, "A drill sergeant in General's stars if ever there was one. Mr. Champ, I must accompany them to their meeting on base security, as I will be interested to hear exactly how the Backdraft are operating jet fighters, but you need not accompany me. The ground, not the air, is your concern. I suggest you remain on your Whale King for the time being unless you really wish to experience the scant hospitality of an army barracks as living quarters. While we consider the Backdraft as a whole, remember – you have only to worry about Vega Obscura. I imagine you'll be summoned when you're needed." With that, Caex turned on heel and left.

Harry was left to walk back to his ship unescorted, keenly aware of the cold and unfamiliar weight of Commission pistol at his side. Vega Obscura was his concern. He was more interested in finding Leena... but still, he was curious. Where was Obscura now, and how could he be fool enough to think he could fight the Commission? _Vega Obscura...._

_

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Subchapter 2.4: Where In the World

Fort Fury, Capital In Exile of the Backdraft,

Southwestern Verdis

1/6/-01

Late Afternoon (Local Time)

Simultaneously

Two guards snapped to crisp attention as Vega Obscura exited his general's tent – the general tent, as it were, since he was the Backdraft's last remaining General. If the Backdraft could still be said to exist. Before Vega were hundreds of smaller tents, crawling with people – downtrodden people who had barely escaped East Vedere with their lives. Vega had scarcely given them an hour to gather all of their belongings and load their possessions aboard the Whale King, which had, packed to the brim, made the short trip to West Vedere to restock on much needed supplies and fuel. But it wasn't safe in West Vedere, only a few short kilometers from the city that had just been burned into the ground. The Backdraft had once been an organization that had fought for radical reform and power. The architects of the new age were dead, their technological creations and terrors now barely served to keep the people of the Backdraft alive. They had been all but destroyed at the hands of their government, and now no longer fought for a new age, but for simple survival. In the cases of many, survival was no longer even an issue. They had seen their homes burned before them at East Vedere, and their lives too had been licked clean by the flames – all that were left were shattered husks, consumed by anger and rage, men who wished only to destroy the Commission that had destroyed them. These were agents of Fury, and Vega, who saw this, suggested that the name for the new home of the Backdraft be Fort Fury.

Their Whale King had made three trips down the Eastern Kerat river, which was vacated of its usual fishermen and commercial ships by seasonal cold. With waters at their winter low, the Backdraft had been able to fly the Whale King only meters above the river and follow it as long as they felt safe, deep into the Southern Vedere wilds. That was how the Backdraft had come to Fort Fury, nearly 700 kilometers from the smoking ruins at East Vedere. They had made camp in a small valley directly east of the Eastern River, where Vega's soldiers had pitched great masses of camouflage netting between the surrounding treetops and their various tents to conceal the landed Whale King and the people it had offloaded. However, it was too much to hope they had not been seen. The Commission might be off their scent for now – for they were almost certainly too pretentious to think that the Backdraft could have moved so far and continued to evade their radar, but eventually reports of visuals would seep in to the command and they would guess what had happened...

The Backdraft had had one big break, and only one. While the bulk of the Backdraft had been stationed in East Vedere, the Backdraft had also operated in the sister-city of West Vedere. There had been a supply base – which Vega and his men had promptly ramsacked for all of the foodstuffs and munitions they could load aboard the ship – and a small, extremely secret research base. The base was secret enough that the Commission hadn't know about it – because if they had and had further guessed at the nature of its work, West Vedere surely would have been burned to the ground as quickly as East Vedere had. The research base was dedicated to resurrecting ancient, lost technology. Altail's undersea base had brought the Berserk Fury back to life and had given the Backdraft the secret of the charged particle gun, but the old nations of Zi had many, many more secrets to discover. Sadly, it seemed that the one unearthed at WV Research seemed it was the last technological advantage the Backdraft would have for some time.

The researchers had built Storm Sworders – advanced Jet Fighters invented by the Helic Republic in ages past... but not just any Storm Sworders, not the shiny silver that Obscura had seen in the bays of Backdraft transports. These Storm Sworders were sleek and black, so black that light seemed to slide off of them, beautiful in their obsidian skins. Vega had never seen such a Storm Sworder before, and neither had Sarah, but Altail recognized them immediately. They were Storm Sworder Stealth Types, the legendary Triple S – a combination of Helic aircraft engineering and Guylos stealth technology, lost centuries ago at the birth of the Neo-Zenebas dynasty. These aircraft were unique, totally invisible to radar and nearly so in infrared... only so much as a flicker at supersonic speeds at high altitudes. They were the perfect stealth weapon.

They had only recovered four from the laboratory, which Vega had ordered staffed and armed. The Commission had lost air superiority over the Verdis region when Vega had destroyed the Hammer Kaisers far above the city, but radar had picked up another Commission Hammer Kaiser over Kerat, on what might have been an intercept course. Vega had ordered the Triple S's launched, on a mission to destroy that Hammer Kaiser. The Backdraft had taken an enormous chance, moving their Whale King just high enough above the treetops to safely launch the stealth aircraft. News of their success had reached the ears of the Backdraft command – a body that currently consisted of himself, Sarah, and Colonel Altail. They had attacked the Hammer Kaiser over the Kerat skies and crippled it... but there was something else. The Hammer Kaiser had landed just over a Commission base that appeared on no map – one that appeared recently constructed and perhaps even not yet finished. In other words, a Commission base with which to attack the Backdraft.

It made sense. The Commission must have realized months ago that they had a diminished ability to exert force in the Kerat and Verdis wilds. In fact, there were no major Commission military installations in the entire Kerat region. However wise this action was on the part of the Commission, it had not been foreseen by the Backdraft. Now, this base was the single biggest threat to the Backdraft – or what was left of it. And Vega greatly suspected that that was why Altail was now walking towards him at a brisk pace. Altail saluted, and Vega saluted him back. A grim reminder that young as he was, he was the leader of many people.

"General Obscura. I would like permission to mount a force reconnaissance mission to this so-called Camp Unity." They had already discussed this. Vega would have preferred to lead such an expedition himself.

"Yes, Colonel. You may pick any soldiers and Zoids that you want for your expedition." Altail nodded and withdrew. Vega looked out over the sea of tents, the thousands of people under his command now living in hiding. He kneaded his forehead. He might be a boy, but somehow he felt much, much older...

Altail met Sarah Redfern on his way to pick his men.

"He said yes?"

"Did you expect otherwise?"

"Not exactly."

"Hm... he wanted to go himself. I know. But he has to stay hear and lead. And more importantly, he has to become a leader."

Sarah looked back at Vega, standing alone before his tent. "He's growing up fast."

"He has to." Altail turned and to leave. "We all have to grow up fast. The kid gloves are off. Maybe they were never on. But one thing's sure. We're out of choices. We fight or we die." With that, the Colonel left to assemble his team. Fight or die. Neither of those options included idle talk or thinking.

* * *

Subchapter 2.5: Lost in the Cold

Blackdust Bay, Northeastern Nyx

1/6/-01

Late Afternoon (Local Time)

Somewhat Later

"I'd ask who you are, but I think I already know." Jack Sisco hadn't exactly been treat hospitably once he had stepped off his plane. He had been escorted under armed guard to his quarters, where he had stayed for five days (and counting). He hadn't exactly been idle... but that was another story.

"Interesting. Wasn't exactly aware that I was a famous face." The man sitting across from Jack Sisco was dark haired and dark eyed, and wore a crisp, jet black uniform that Jack had never seen before. The members of this organization seemed to all know one another on sight, but still found use for rank insignia, and while they departed from any military Jack had ever seen before, he had begun to be able to decipher at least their relative importance. However, the man across from Jack was apparently very different. He wore four stars on his lapel, which in most militaries meant a General. This "general" had been saluted by every person he had passed. He was clearly important. Maybe he was the top dog.

"Do you know where you are, Mr. Sisco?" This man had taken to the hard metal chairs, iron table, and stark mortar floors much faster than Jack had.

"Given how damn cold it is, I'd say I'm in Nyx."

"Correct, if incomplete. You're in the northernmost navigable port on Nyx."

Sisco nodded his head. "Alright."

"You came here willingly and we received you willingly, because you wish to become a member of our organization. By reputation, Mr. Sisco, you are one of the most outstanding tacticians on Zi, but reputation alone does not earn you a place here. I, however, am going to offer you a chance to prove yourself."

"Thank you, General."

The other figure cracked a wry smile. "I'm not a General. I'm a Commander, and you can call me Fade."

"Fade... then I was right. If my reputation can be said to precede me, than yours certainly precedes you. Now, you said you're offering me a chance."

"Technically, I am not offering you a chance. If it were up to me, we would be proceeding somewhat differently. My direct superior is offering you a chance."

"Your direct superior? Then you're not in charge here."

"I'm as in charge as it gets. I am the second in command of this organization, and my sole superior is not here at the moment. That being said, I do not have the power to induct you into our organization. My superior does."

"So, if you're not here to see me about joining your group, then why are you here?"

"To deliver this."

Fade drew a plain manilla envelope out of the folds of his black jacket and threw it on to the metal table, then crossed his arms and drew back.

"My duty is discharged. You have the envelope." Sisco looked over the package. There were no markings on either side.

"What's in it?"

"No idea. I'm just the messenger." Fade leaned closer in. "But at a guess, it's orders. You see, I happen to know that it's a bit of interesting time over on the Central Continent. An opportune time. A time when we may be invited in. So, if I had to speculate, we've found something for you to do. Something to have you prove your worth. Something beneficial and real, some task to complete. Something to see if you're worthy to join us... or lead us." Fade leaned in even closer still, such that he and Jack were nearly nose to nose.

"So open it, Mr. Sisco, and see if Commander Halen has found a use for you."

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Author's Comments:

Well, that's chapter number two (such as it is), the third installment of the story of the Chaotic Age. As with chapter 1, you've run quite a gauntlet to have read that much (they were effectively the same length), but I hope that means that you appreciate the work put into writing it! As always, I greatly appreciate any reviews or feedback – questions, comments, concerns, and even criticism of any kind are all welcome. Again, feel free to visit our website (see the author's profile) if you'd like. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far, so until next time (hopefully not next year)...

-Halen


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